Take the Plunge
by IReadAndWriteSometimes
Summary: This story picks up right after Provenza's wedding, and takes Shandy on an AU path as Sharon considers a change that will affect both her personal and professional life.
1. Chapter 1

Here I am with another story. Hiatus has lasted far too long already, so I thought I'd keep myself and hopefully, you, occupied with a bit of writing.

Before you start reading, I would like to take a moment to thank MajorCFan. She is simply amazing for getting my wheels turning, letting me incorporate her crazy dreams into this story, reading through my even crazier ramblings as I outlined everything, offering great suggestions, and, last but not least, for being my beta on this.

Enjoy, and do tell me what you think of it! There's more to come. 😊

* * *

 **TAKE THE PLUNGE - CHAPTER 1**

"You're quiet."

In response, Sharon just hummed.

They were on their way home from Provenza's wedding. While the affair at City Hall was a quiet one, Patrice added some noise to it in the end by surprising both Provenza and their guests with a little gathering at a nearby restaurant. They had fun. The food was great, the company even better, and Andy and Sharon couldn't remember the last time they danced so much. The entire afternoon had been wonderful, a welcome reprieve from the draining case they had just closed. To top it all off, Gus and Rusty had other plans. Andy and Sharon could look forward to ending the day by indulging in each other's company alone at the condo.

However, Sharon had been quiet ever since they entered his car, and that worried Andy slightly.

"You okay?" Andy inquired, chancing a glance at her.

She was looking out the window, hands clasped in her lap, one of her thumbs stroking gently over another. She seemed a million miles away.

She sighed again, but tore her gaze away from the window to give him a sideways look. "Yes." She even smiled.

Throwing a quick, narrow-eyed look at her, Andy said, "Seems to me like you have something on your mind." His words sounded more like a question than an observation.

She leaned back into her seat, relaxing against it. "I do have something on my mind," she confirmed softly. "But," there was a soft expression on her face when she looked at him again, "it's nothing that can't wait until we get home."

Andy smiled a little. She did this often, and he sometimes wondered whether she was even aware of it; talk of her condo as home, and include him in it. He liked that. A lot. He found himself calling it home more often than not, too. "Nothing bad, I hope?" he asked, only half-jokingly.

She ran a hand down the side of his arm. On a smile, she nodded. "Nothing bad." She paused, and awkwardly added, "I think."

He chuckled. "That sounds reassuring."

She laughed. "Sorry." She sounded anything but, and he could only shake his head at her.

...

"So something's on your mind?" Andy asked as they made themselves comfortable on her couch, armed with cups of teas. Her silence on the rest of their drive home made him a little apprehensive, but when she leaned into him as he draped an arm over the back of the couch, he relaxed a little.

"I'm rescheduling that interview," she informed him, taking a sip of her tea.

Andy was mid-sip, too, and his eyebrows shot up at her announcement. He had thought her mind was made up the other day. She didn't want the job, and that was it. "For the NFL job?" he asked, a touch of awe tinting his words as he removed the cup from his lips.

She shrugged, and looked at him. He detected a touch of a reprimand when she said, "That doesn't mean I'm taking the job." Her look turned pointed and she added, "Besides, I am not the only one who is being offered this interview."

Andy tilted his head over a bland look. "I know that, I'm just surprised you've decided to finally even consider it." Whenever they had talked about it so far, in terms of job description, she would always get stuck on how much she liked where she was right now. What he was hoping to achieve is have her consider what she might like about the position the NFL was offering.

"I'm still not sold on it," she warned as if Andy couldn't tell.

Andy thought it was coming, so he prompted her with a "But?"

She shifted on the couch, straightening a little and turning to the side to have a better look at him. "My earlier qualms about it are still there, Andy. I can't just upend my life like that without considering the division," she shrugged, "Rusty," a small smile quirked her lips upward, "and us."

"And without considering what _you_ really want," Andy added, and leaned forward to put his cup of tea down on the coffee table. Leaning back and looking at her, he found her pursing her lips at him in slight disdain. It wasn't the first time he had told her that. "Look, the only reason why I'm," he rolled his eyes over the next word, "pushing you to do that interview is so you make absolutely sure it's something you don't want to do, Sharon." He reached for her free hand. "You love your current job, I know. You're worried about Rusty, and," he smiled, "us." He squeezed her hand. "But you and I both know that so far you haven't been stalling because the job sounded unappealing, too. You've just been reluctant to admit it."

She smiled somewhat guiltily. "You're right."

He grinned and shrugged. "It was bound to happen any day now."

She chuckled, then quirked an eyebrow at him. "Don't let it go to your head."

He grinned again. "Too late," he quipped.

She shook her head at him in amusement. "Anyway," she said pointedly, "you don't have to try talking me into it anymore."

Andy doubted anyone could talk Sharon Raydor into anything, but smiled nonetheless. "So what made you change your mind?"

"I _love_ football," she said on a shrug.

Andy chuckled. "And you are a bit curious, aren't you?"

Her eyebrows briefly went up and down. "I am," she admitted.

"Ah," he sounded positively smug, "right again!" He pointed a finger at her.

She laughed, letting go of his other hand to smack his finger out of the way, but went on more seriously. "If, after this interview, I decide to pursue this job, there'll be more interviews. Meetings, travels, background checks." She sighed. "Just getting the job could take months."

"Well, consider that time apart a trial run for us," Andy said, not really kidding about that.

She made a non-committal hum, and shifted on the couch to settle into his side again. "I do worry," she reiterated quietly.

Andy squeezed her further into his embrace. "Yeah, well, you wouldn't be Sharon if you didn't."

She took a breath. "There's so much more to consider if this interview goes well, and I decide to really go for it. And then," she shook her head, "if by some miracle I do get the job... Oh," she sighed again, "then there's a whole other host of things to think about."

"Sure, but it's not all bad stuff," Andy argued. When she hummed, not too convinced of that, he added, "For example, if you get the job you'll be in New York a lot more often. And I know a certain someone, well," he cleared his throat, "two certain someones, who'd just love to reap the benefits of that."

"Oh," she let out happily. "I _would_ get to see Emily more."

Andy nodded. "You'll also see more football than you ever have before."

Amused now, Sharon just said, "I will." Getting more technical, she added, "I like the idea of touching up the NFL's image somewhere along the way, too."

"You got Major Crimes to clean up their act," Andy said matter-of-factly. "Taking on the NFL seems like the logical next step," he added like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Of course it does," she mumbled sarcastically, but there was still amusement in her voice.

Serious again, Andy said, "The rest doesn't really matter right now. That, we'll deal with if and when we get to it."

She abruptly pulled back to look at him. "You make it all sound so easy when it's anything but."

"I'm not saying it's easy," Andy said defensively. "I just want you to," he tugged on her arm, and waited a beat for her to lean into him again, "give yourself the chance to really see if this is something you want or not. Decide on that first, okay? Then worry about everything else all you want." He dropped a kiss to her temple. "I'll even worry with you, I promise."

She laughed quietly, and he couldn't help but join her.

Suddenly she said, "This is still so novel for me."

Andy frowned, and looked at the top of her head. "What is?"

She snaked her arms around him. "Support," she said simply, tightening her hold on him.

He smiled a bit ruefully. He hated that that was the case. "Well, get used to it," he said resolutely.

She chuckled. "So," she started as she slowly sobered again, "I'm scheduling an interview with the NFL for their Chief of Security position." She sounded a bit wondrous.

"Looks like it," he confirmed. "NFL's Chief of Security," Andy then repeated, impressed. "Sounds fancy. And a woman at that."

She lifted her head, propping her chin on the inside of his shoulder to look at him. "It does, doesn't it?"

He only smiled and kissed her in answer.

"You sure about this?" she asked in concern when he pulled back.

"Not that it should matter," Andy said pointedly, making her roll her eyes at him, "but yes, I am."

She considered him for a moment, then finally nodded. "Alright," she took a breath. "I'll do this interview, and we'll take it from there."

"Deal." He sealed it with another kiss.

...

On the day of her re-scheduled NFL interview, Sharon took the morning off. She had promised not to make any additional postponing should they catch a case, sure the NFL would probably not have that much patience for another delay anyway. Still, Andy was glad that once the day finally arrived, they were in for a paper pushing workday. There were no active cases to split Sharon's attention or tempt her to postpone her meeting yet again.

They hadn't told the team anything. There wasn't much to tell anyway. Should the NFL truly be interested in hiring Sharon, there was still the final decision to be made of whether she was truly interested in the job, and if she was, it would take a while for her to know if she'd get it or not. They decided the team did not need to know anything until she was possibly ready to put in her retirement papers.

Provenza seemed suspicious though. It probably did not help that Andy was slightly fidgety as well. Thankfully, his partner made no inquiries beyond asking if everything was alright.

Sharon finally got into work around lunch time. The murder room was empty, the squad using the rather uneventful day to indulge in a proper lunch break for a change. Andy stayed back. Nobody argued when he said he was waiting up on Sharon, and that she was bringing lunch for him anyway.

He was on his feet the moment he heard the familiar sound of her heeled footsteps. He refrained, however, from pouncing on her instantly. "Hey," he said in greeting instead.

She glanced over the room, then settled her gaze on him with a smile. "Hi." She waved the take-out bag in front of her and tilted her head toward her office. "Hungry?"

He nodded. "Starving," he said, following her when she walked into her office. "What took you so long?" He had expected her to be done by noon, after all the meeting was scheduled at 8.

She gave him a wide-eyed look. "They are thorough!" She sounded both impressed and exasperated.

Andy relieved her of her bag and started taking out the boxes of Chinese food, as she took her seat behind her desk. "That a good or bad thing?"

"I'm not sure," she said on a lighthearted laugh, and Andy lifted an amused eyebrow at her rather chipper mood. She had been much more tense when he left for work that morning, so he took it as a good sign. "But," she went on more seriously, "they are definitely interested, and," she shrugged, "I think I am, too."

Andy stopped mid-movement as he was handing her a box of food to stare at her. "You are?"

She drew her shoulders together and offered a small smile. "I am," she confirmed, sounding slightly insecure.

He finally plopped the box in front of her, and started working on his own as he took a seat opposite of her. Grinning, and a bit impatiently, he prodded, "Well?"

She relaxed into her chair, focused on picking at the noodles in her box, and said, "Well, there's a lot do to." She looked up at him. "Definitely a lot of responsibility, and as expected, I still have to go to a bunch of interviews, meetings and background checks," she waved her plastic fork through the air, trailing off. "But it's also a challenge." She shrugged. "And I like challenges."

Andy crossed his legs and made himself comfortable as he dug into his own box of food. "What kind of challenges?"

"Aside from, obviously, being in charge of security at games, there's a lot of coordinating to do," she paused to get another bite, "with different security agencies, local law enforcement. I was surprised to learn how often they even work with the _federal_ law enforcement."

"That's not a good surprise," Andy mumbled.

She chuckled, but otherwise ignored his interjection. "Some of the work will involve dealing with the NFL's internal affairs and-"

"Internal affairs?" Andy nearly choked on a piece of chicken.

She pursed her lips and shot him a bland look. "Yes," she said pointedly, "internal affairs." Teasingly, she added, "Something wrong with that, Lieutenant?"

Andy shook his head. "Not at all, Ma'am," he said quickly, then waved his fork at her. "Carry on."

She smiled, rather smugly at that, but did as asked. "I'd be in a more administrative position, of course, but I would have to deal with internal incidents between teams, players, managers, even fans."

Andy's brow furrowed together. "How's that a challenge? You can do that with your eyes closed."

Flattered, she smiled, tilting her head to the side. "May _be_ ," she somewhat singsonged, "but the challenge lies in making sure none of the incidents are being swept under the rug, and that the investigations are pursued as thoroughly as possible."

Andy nodded knowingly. "Well, the NFL is known for wanting to make incidents disappear rather than deal with them." He gave her a wide-eyed look. "I mean, they have bounty funds set up to pay for bail bonds or whatever when their players get into trouble."

"Exactly," Sharon agreed. "While none of that is hurting the popularity of football, it is hurting the NFL's image. They're looking for someone who's adamant about not cutting corners. And if I may say so myself," she grinned, "that's right up my alley."

He grinned, too, and nodded. "So you're pretty sold on this now, huh?"

She sighed. "Not yet," she said cautiously. "I am intrigued. Interested for sure, and helping them clean up their image is definitely appealing, but," she shook her head and cut herself off. "Well, you know my 'buts'," she said resigned as she leaned over the desk to look for something in her bag of take out.

Andy sighed. "Yeah," he said, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. "They talk to you about schedules and stuff already?"

She fished out a bottle of water. "I'd be all over the place during football season," she raised an eyebrow and added, "not for every game though." Unscrewing the top of the bottle, she said, "In between there are conferences, making sure to minimize the trouble the players get into, or," she tilted the bottle toward him, "minimize the fallout from those troubles."

"And," Andy nodded, "did you mention your ties here even after you retire?"

"Yes," Sharon said on a smile. "They were very forthcoming. They're big on delegating apparently," she rolled her eyes, "so I'd always be able to rely on someone else to hold down the fort when I needed to be here. The rest of my schedule I would also always be free to adjust according to any court appearances I'd still be obligated to make."

"Sounds to me like they really want you for the job," Andy pointed out, digging out a bottle of water out of the bag as well, while she took a sip out of her own.

Sharon shrugged. "Me or a Commander from Washington, D.C."

Andy drank some water, then closed the bottle and put it back down on her desk. "Alright then," he leaned back in his chair and tilted his box of food to the side, oblivious to the fact that its contents were precariously close to falling out, "I really only need to know one thing."

She raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"You're interested, you're intrigued," he listed off, "but do you want the job?"

She put down both her water and her box, and took a breath before meeting his eyes again. "I'd like to give it a try," she said. She swallowed before adding, "So yes, I do want the job."

"Well," Andy got momentarily distracted when he heard voices approaching, and he turned around to see his team slowly filing back into the murder room, "I take it you'll want to talk," he returned his focus on Sharon, "to Rusty first?"

She rolled her eyes. "He's already sold on the job, but yes," she nodded, "before I agree to any more interviews, I'd like to make sure he's absolutely fine with this."

"And if he is?" Andy asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Then," she met his eyebrow with the raise of her own, "we'll work out my 'buts' along the way." Her answer sounded a lot like a question.

"Alright then." Andy suddenly got to his feet, clearly ending the discussion. "Finish lunch," he eyed her discarded box, "and I'll be back in a few to bury you in," he tilted his head toward the team, "our paperwork."

"Thank you very much," she said sarcastically.

Andy grinned and grabbed his bottle of water, tucking it safely under an arm to head toward her door. "My pleasure," he said, walking out of her office.

...

They were curled up on the couch engrossed in a movie by the time Rusty came home. He had inquired about Sharon's interview via text earlier, and although Sharon told him it went well, she also let him know she wanted to talk to him about it when he got home. So when he stepped into the condo, he merely shrugged out of his shoes, flopped his backpack on the floor next to the door and went straight for the chair next to the couch.

"Hi," he said in greeting, taking a seat.

Andy and Sharon had sat up by the time he joined them. Andy reached for the remote to pause the movie while mumbling in unison with Sharon a, "Hey," in return.

"There's dinner in the oven if you're hungry." Sharon waved a hand in the direction of the kitchen.

"No, thanks," Rusty waved her off. "I'm meeting Gus for dinner in about an hour, so," he trailed off on a shrug.

"Oh," Sharon said in surprise, straightening a little on the couch. "Well," she glanced at Andy, who just shrugged, "we can talk about the interview tomorrow then," she offered.

Rusty frowned. "Why? Something wrong?"

"No, no, everything's fine," she waved a hand through the air, "I just hoped to talk to you about something."

Rusty shifted in the chair, making himself more comfortable. "Well, shoot, mom."

She smiled. She was still getting used to the title that he had now taken to calling her more often, rather than her given name. Before she could respond, however, Andy interjected.

"Oh, you don't want her to shoot," he gave Rusty a wide-eyed look, "Sharon's got a mean aim."

Rusty gave Andy a bland look, although a small, amused smile tugged at his lips, then looked pointedly at his mother. "You're not passing on the job because of me, are you?" He started fidgeting with his hands over his next words. "I already owe you so much, you can't just pass on something as awesome as the NFL." He paused and his eyes widened. "The NFL, mom!"

Sharon reached over to still his hands. "You don't owe me anything, Rusty," she told him sternly. "And if I were to pass on this job opportunity, a lot more factors would play into my decision, not just you."

Rusty instantly looked at Andy, frowning again.

Andy raised his palms up in surrender. "I'm with you on this, kid."

He narrowed his eyes at him for a second, then turned to Sharon. "So what do you want to talk about then?"

Sharon took a breath and leaned back into the couch. "About whether you feel ready to spend a lot more time alone in this condo?"

"Does that mean you're taking the job?" Rusty asked instead, leaning forward in his chair, eager to hear her response.

When Sharon sighed, Andy interjected again. "Just answer the question, Rusty."

If Rusty picked up on Andy's slight exasperation, he ignored it. Instead, he actually leaned back into the chair and settled his gaze on the coffee table in front of him, obviously needing a moment to find an answer. "How much time?" he said after a few moments, looking back at Sharon.

"I don't know yet," Sharon admitted. "But during football season, I guess I might be out of town for a few days around each game."

"And off season?" Rusty asked.

"Not as much," Sharon said, shaking her head.

Rusty sighed and set his eyes on Andy. When he didn't look away for a few moments, Andy shifted uncomfortably on the spot. "Look, if you'd rather discuss this alone," he told Rusty, already getting ready to stand up, "I can leave you two to it."

That seemed to snap Rusty out his staring. "No, sit," he instructed with a wave of his hand. "No, it's not you. I'm just thinking." He looked at Sharon again. "Would I really be alone that much?"

Sharon shrugged. "Well, that is part of my job description I'm afra-"

"Oh, no!" Rusty suddenly laughed, making both Sharon and Andy jump slightly in their seats. "I mean, would I _really_ ," his tone dipped over the word, "be alone that much? I mean, I have Gus, the team," he looked at Andy, "you." He returned his focus on Sharon and smiled. "Mom, it's not like you plan on dumping me at the zoo."

Andy chuckled, but a rueful smile crossed Sharon's features, and she leaned forward again, this time to tap her son's knee. "I'd never dump you anywhere," she said softly, "you know that."

Rusty smiled, too. "I know." He looked around the condo. "Look," he said seriously, "I'm not," he glanced somewhat shyly at Andy, "ready to move out and be out and about on my own just yet, but I think I can handle you not being here all the time."

Andy nodded. "And Rusty's right," he addressed Sharon, who turned her head to look at him, "he won't be alone while you're out of town." He shrugged. "You're not his only family, you know."

She smiled, looking at him appreciatively over a tilt of her head. Reaching out for his hand, she nodded and said, "I know."

"So you won't pass on the job opportunity because of me?" Rusty asked. He looked at his mother's boyfriend and added, "Or Andy?"

She turned her attention back to him. "No, I won't," she confirmed. "I'll try to beat that Commander to the job then," she added, looking at Andy.

At Rusty's puzzled look, Andy explained. "That's the other guy contending for the spot."

"Ah." Rusty nodded. "You telling the team yet?" he asked.

"Oh, no." Sharon shook her head. "It'll be weeks, if not months, before we know who gets the position. We're not exactly keeping it a secret," she rolled her eyes, "but until I know more, there's no need to mention anything."

"Because there's not much to mention to begin with," Andy added on a shrug.

"Well, okay then," Rusty said somewhat awkwardly as he got to his feet. "Uh," he looked behind himself, "I should start getting ready..."

Sharon stopped him by standing up as well, and taking a step closer to him, making sure she had his undivided attention. "Are you absolutely sure you're okay with this?"

He rolled his eyes, exasperated. "Yes, mooom!"

She put a palm to his cheek, giving it an affectionate caress. Smiling at him, she took a long moment to consider him. "Alright," she abruptly dropped her hand, "don't let me keep you then."

He chuckled, but said seriously, "You really don't have to worry about me, okay?"

She shook her head. "I'll always worry about you." When he huffed, she quirked an eyebrow at him. "Parent's prerogative, Rusty."

He groaned, but turned around to finally head to his room. "I know," he mumbled.

When she heard his door close behind him, taking a deep breath, Sharon finally turned around to face Andy again and slowly let go of the breath. He tugged on her hand. "He'll be fine. Besides, it's not like you're starting the job right now."

She followed his tug and settled into his side once she sat down. "I know," she said confidently. When she looked at him, a bright, relieved smile was playing at her lips. "I'm actually excited about this now."

Andy grinned. "Well, you had better be after all this trouble Rusty and I are willing to go through for you."

"Oh, you," she smacked his thigh playfully.

He just grinned again. "Yes, me," he quipped and pecked her on the lips.

"So our trial run starts in three weeks then," Sharon announced.

Andy's eyebrows shot up. "Three weeks?"

"Yeah, that's when the next interview is scheduled." Sharon frowned a little. "Didn't I tell you?"

"What do you think?" Andy said in answer.

Sharon chuckled. "Well, I'm telling you now. The next interview is scheduled in three weeks, at 9 am, at NFL's New York office on Park Avenue." She reached for the remote. "All I have to do now is confirm I'm coming." She pointed the remote at the TV, but looked at Andy quizzically.

He smiled. "Confirm away, my dear," he told her, pulling her down with him as he lay down on the couch again.

"I will," she confirmed merrily. Finding a comfortable position next to him, she hit the play button to continue their movie.

 **TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

I'm glad I've managed to pique your interest. On we go!

First though, thanks to MajorCFan for all her help and beta work on this. She's awesome! 😊

* * *

 **TAKE THE PLUNGE - CHAPTER 2**

By August there was one final interview with the NFL commissioner for Sharon to go through, and a week after that meeting, she was set to find out if the job was hers or not.

The almost four months in between her first and final interview passed by quickly. They included four unavoidable trips (paid by the NFL itself) to New York, half a dozen conference calls from LA and altogether nearly twenty meetings mostly with league officials, including the current chief of security. Sharon had been gone for three days during her first trip to New York. At that point, they already found it impossible to keep what was going on from the team, or more precisely, from Provenza.

Sharon had not wanted to keep the offer a secret per se. She considered her division family, an idea that would have been incomprehensible four years ago. So, what initially kept her from mentioning anything to them, was her worry that it would lower morale. Andy tried assuring her that that would not be the case, that the team would be happy for her, and would understand that the job offer sounded too appealing to simply be shrugged off without at least giving it a shot.

However, she had gone through the process of leaving a close knit division once already. Granted, she had headed FID far longer than she would probably ever head Major Crimes, but, even though it had happened unintentionally, the mood in her former division took a hit when she announced she was set to transfer out of it within a few weeks. It certainly did not help matters when Taylor then practically pushed her into taking over Major Crimes before neither she, her old division or new division were ready for it.

Sharon had to hand it to Andy's partner though. When she politely asked him to take over for the three days she would use to make that first trip to the Big Apple, she could instantly tell that he knew there was more to the trip than she had been letting on. Provenza might feign disinterest, even play dumb at times, but nothing escaped that man's notice. However, he had showed remarkable restraint. Oh, he had shot her an incredibly suspicious look alright, but had not asked a thing. She was glad for it. No matter her years of experience working not just within the LAPD, but with the Lieutenant as well, she still would've struggled to avoid his question had he asked. But no, he had spared her and had, instead, pounced on Andy in the break room while the poor man was preparing her, of all people, tea.

 _"Something going on with the Captain's daughter?" Provenza asked without further ado, as he closed the door to the break room behind him._

 _Surprised, Andy turned around, an empty tea cup in his hand. "What? No, why?"_

 _Provenza shot him an irritated look and folded his arms across his chest. "What business does the Captain have in New York then?"_

 _"Oh," Andy said, turning back to the counter since the water had started boiling. "It's no business you need to know about, Provenza."_

 _Frowning at his partner's back, Provenza waved a hand at him. "I can count on one hand how many times the Captain has taken time off."_

 _"So?" Andy retorted, annoyed as he poured water over the tea bag and into the cup._

 _"And every time she told me why," Provenza went on as if Andy hadn't said anything. He then took a breath to calm himself down, and added, "Look, just tell me nothing's wrong."_

 _Andy turned to face Provenza again and leaned against the counter, the cup of hot tea safely in his hands. "You're worried about Sharon?" There was no way to hide the smirk that settled in his features._

 _Provenza rolled his eyes. Ignoring his partner's smartass question, he just said, "So, is there something wrong?"_

 _Andy smiled and shook his head. "No, everything's fine. Nothing to worry about." He pushed off the counter, ready to head for the door, but was stopped by Provenza throwing his arms out at him._

 _"Well, then what's with all the secrecy?" he asked in a huff._

 _"Geez, Provenza," Andy rolled his eyes at him, "would you just drop it? She'll be back in three days. And when she gets back, you can bury her in all the paperwork you'll ignore in her absence like you usually do, and that's it. Nothing's wrong."  
_

 _Provenza narrowed his eyes at him. "You're up to something," he said, pointing a finger at Andy. "First that morning off a few weeks ago, now this." He dropped his hand to the side. "Alright," he was obviously changing tactics, "if it's something personal, I'll drop it."_

 _Andy heaved an exaggerated sigh of relief. "Thank you!"_

 _"But," Provenza's finger went up again, "if it can affect work, I_ demand _to know!"_

Sharon's second in command was smart, too. He knew exactly how to force Andy's hand to get him to fold, and she did not even mind when he finally did. To her surprise, Provenza actually grumbled a bit about her desire to leave; not that she would call it that, it was more a desire to try something new now; however, he did not breathe a word to the rest of the team.

In retrospect, it was silly of her to expect to keep things under wraps until she knew if the position was hers or not. Of course, she had not anticipated four three-day trips to New York that were bound to tip everybody off. Still, she should have known it was impossible to delay sharing any kind of information with a team of detectives, and a team of LAPD's most elite detectives at that. To delay something as big as this was, yes, definitely impossible.

She folded before her second trip to New York, a month later. By that time, she had been required to leave her office for a couple of hours a few times, mid-workday. That alone her team found suspicious, especially once they realized she wasn't leaving for budget meetings or similar affairs. She was actually leaving the premises for altogether different, unknown reasons. So, when she, again, handed the reins over to Provenza for a few days, it was of no surprise that the, by then, huge elephant in the room was finally addressed. It was also unsurprising that, of all the detectives in her division, it was Julio who addressed the issue. As a matter of fact, his straightforwardness was something she greatly appreciated in the man, and she could most certainly not fault him for it.

 _"Uh, Ma'am?" Julio asked, raising a hand in the air._

 _She was standing next to Provenza's desk, so she turned to face him. "Yes, Julio?"_

 _"Are you flying out to New York again?" he asked. Since Provenza was in the know, this time she had not mentioned where she was going, but had merely informed him she'd be gone for a few days._

 _She nodded over a small smile. "I am."_

 _When he glanced over the rest of the squad, she knew they were simply worried. She decided to tell them what was going on even before Julio voiced their incorrect assumption. "Is something wrong with your daughter, Ma'am?"_

 _She laughed softly, shaking her head. "Oh, no, Julio." She glanced over the rest of her team who were watching her with great interest now. "She's excellent, actually."_

 _"We're sorry to pry, Captain," Mike spoke from his desk, "but it's not like you to take this much time off."_

 _"And," Amy piped up, "you don't make it a habit, Captain, of leaving your office during work hours unless it's case-related."_

 _Sharon looked over at Andy, seated behind his own desk. When he shrugged, as if to tell her to just get it over with, she refocused on her team and smiled. A bit of excitement, as well as apprehensiveness, suddenly washed over her. "You're not prying, Mike," she told her youngest Lieutenant. "And it's not a secret, especially if things go the way we," her eyes flickered over to Andy, "hope they do." Nobody interrupted, instead they kept looking at her expectantly. "I, along with one more candidate, am being considered for the position of the NFL's Chief of Security." At the end of her sentence she let go of a breath she had not been aware of holding._

 _The squad definitely seemed stumped for a moment. Buzz snapped out of it first. He was busy with Provenza's printer, so she turned around at the sound of his voice to face him. "The NFL," he said, a slight frown on his face, "as in the National Football League?"_

 _"Precisely," Sharon confirmed on a curt nod._

 _"Wow," Julio let out, "that's impressive, Ma'am."_

 _She smiled. "Thank you, Julio."_

 _"So what's the status?" Mike asked. "You think you'll get it, Captain?"_

 _She shrugged. "I certainly hope so, but it will probably take a couple of more months before I know for sure." Looking over them again, she lifted a hand and waved it through the air. "That's why I haven't mentioned anything. I might not get the job," she shook her head, "and I didn't want you to have to worry about my possible replacement," she gave Provenza a pointed look, who shot her a startled one in return, making the team chuckle, "before I was certain that you would have to."_

 _They fell silent for a moment again, clearly processing the information. Amy lifted the silence in the end. "Is it weird," she was alternating between looking at Julio and Mike, "that I don't want you to leave, Captain," she looked at Sharon, "but I also don't want you to_ not _get the job?"_

 _Provenza shot Amy a bland look, but when he just sighed in his chair, instead of pointing out what a couple of years ago he would probably label as ass kissing, Sharon guessed he, and by the look of them, the rest of her team shared in Amy's little conundrum._

 _"Is it weird that I really want this job, but hate the idea of leaving here at the same time?" Sharon asked in response, an incredulous look on her face._

 _They all laughed._

 _Suddenly Julio addressed Andy. "Sir, you knew about this?" It was a rhetorical question. "And you did not try to talk her out of it?"_

 _Before Andy could even process the question, Sharon shot him a nearly devious look. "Oh, Andy's the one who talked me_ into _this."_

 _Andy looked at her mildly offended. "There's no talking you into anything," he shot back, making the team, including Sharon, laugh again. He addressed them then more seriously. "But no, I did not try to talk her out of it either."_

 _Although he was grinning, Julio shook his head at him disapprovingly. Andy just rolled his eyes._

 _"Well, I hate to say it," Mike then said, frowning a little, "but," he shrugged, "good luck, Captain."_

 _The rest of them nodded in shared sentiment, and Sharon suddenly felt rather overwhelmed by their support. Thickly, she told them, "Thank you."_

After that she only asked them to not mention anything to Taylor, but to let her tell him herself eventually. Again, to nobody's surprise, he had not inquired about her days off or anything. The division was running smoothly even in her absence, and Sharon guessed that as long as that was the case, even if he thought her days off were suspicious, he would not ask. Even after her final interview was over, she had still not been forced to inform him of anything.

Life outside of work definitely lived up to Andy's idea of a trial run. Between Major Crimes, Rusty, her interviews, meeting, travels and preparing for all that, Sharon found herself putting a lot more effort into fitting Andy into her busy schedule. It wasn't as if she was gone so much that they hardly ever saw each other, but with everything that was going on, she felt as if she was spending more time trying to figure out when to see him outside of work, than actually spending time with him. Maybe she was still getting used to Andy no longer living with her after his blood clot ordeal. Maybe that was what made it seem like she saw less of him than she was used to, but whatever the reason, the feeling was there, and if she got the job, it would be yet another thing she would have to get used to. They both would.

Neither man in her life complained, however.

Rusty was teasing her about putting an awful lot of trust in him, pointing out how he might start throwing crazy parties in her absence, or how he might accidentally leave the stove on and light the place on fire. His most childish form of teasing was complaining about her leaving him to fend for himself when it came to mundane chores such as laundry and housekeeping, and worst of all, getting something to eat. She took it all as a good sign and drew comfort from it, resting assured that, should her absences increase in frequency, he would be perfectly fine. She did, however, warn him to keep meals consisting of burgers and fries to a bare minimum.

Andy did not resort to teasing. Instead, she found herself sometimes overwhelmed by his enthusiasm when she filled him in on her interviews. She had been finding out an awful lot about the inner security structure of the NFL. It would be a lie to say that neither her or Andy weren't rather impressed by it. There were so many sub-operations within the NFL dealing with one type of security or another; be it stadium security, fan conduct, or personnel conduct. What intrigued them both to no end were the investigative facilities within it. While she would not be heading each particular branch, she would be overseeing them as a whole and have the final say in matters should she deem it necessary.

Besides her enthusiasm, with Andy she also shared her misgivings. However, they weren't significant enough to warrant her rejecting the job should she finally be offered it. She was set on that. She found herself appreciating Andy being there to offer his support and reassurances. Not that she needed them, she was long past needing anybody to have her back in any kind of matters, but she found herself awfully serene when he assured her of having her back anyway. And _that_ she even liked.

One thing on her mind was rank. In theory, there was a hierarchy in the NFL's inner workings. However, one's position within that hierarchy did not necessarily bring about the healthy dose of respect that an LAPD rank carried. She was ready to earn that respect. She never for one second expected that to come all on its own. However, the closer she got to finally finding out who got the job, the more she wished she had her Captain's rank to help her project authority if the NFL picked her. Her Captain's persona was an integral part to her being, too, and she found herself missing it at the mere thought of having to let go of it. Andy's input on the matter came in what she could only label as typical Andy fashion.

 _"Don't worry, I'm sure the team will still call you 'Captain'," he told her as they lay in bed facing each other one night after she returned from her fourth trip to New York. He quirked an eyebrow at her. "I have no issue with switching back to 'Captain' either, Sharon."_

 _She laughed. "That wasn't my point, Andy," she said in light exasperation. "I just like the idea of having my rank to back me up if things get rocky. Otherwise I am well aware of having to slowly build a reputation inside the NFL on my own, and earn their trust in me."_

 _"Oh," Andy said in surprise, "so you won't miss the title, you'll just miss the permission to boss people around the way you can at the LAPD?" he asked teasingly._

 _"Oh, gosh." She groaned and flopped on her back. She turned her head to look at him, and found him grinning at her. "Is that really what this sounds like?" she asked, genuinely worried that it did._

 _His grin faded, and he reached for her hand. "No, I'm just kidding," he told her seriously. Playing with the tips of her fingers, he added, "You'll no longer have your Captain's mask to hide behind, I get that."_

 _She frowned and interrupted before he could go on. "I don't hide-"_

 _"Oh," he shook his head, interrupting her this time, "you do sometimes," he said, leaving no room for argument. "But what I was getting at," he went on over a pointed look, "is that you weren't always a Captain of the LAPD either, and you and I both know you were well respected and," he grinned, "well feared long before anyone finally had the good sense to promote you to Captain." He scoffed and added, "Hell, you'd be Commander by now if Taylor and Pope weren't such asses."_

 _She chuckled a little over his last remark. "True," she agreed over a small smile. "Still," her smile turned longing, "I wish I could wave my badge around that place if anyone tries to start a riot or something."_

 _Andy chuckled. "Nobody's gonna start a riot there."_

 _"Well," she sighed, "they are expecting the new chief of security to bring about some changes. I'm bound to hit a few walls in the form of people who won't appreciate those changes."_

 _Andy paused a second to consider that. Finally, he said, "I know for a fact that you can take down walls without the help of your badge."_

 _That threw her completely, and she turned to her side again to frown at him. "And what fact would that be?" she asked, puzzled._

 _He shrugged a single shoulder and simply said, "Rusty."_

 _She snorted a laugh right into his face. "Are you seriously comparing Rusty to the NFL, an organization run mostly by money and men with quite an ego to boost them?"_

 _On a laugh, Andy shook his head. "Of course not." He spoke seriously. "I am however, pointing out that you're well versed in handling stubborn men," the way he said that, had her know he was including himself with those men, "without your precious badge."_

 _She snorted another, less intense laugh, then smiled at him. "Thank you," she said, kissing him to prove she meant it. "I am not worried I won't handle my new responsibilities and everything else that goes with it, without the badge," she said when she pulled back. "I am more than willing and capable to face the challenges head on without it, but," she couldn't help the way her voice became smaller, "I'll really miss that badge of mine."_

 _"Well," Andy said lightheartedly, "you'll be happy to know they'll let you keep it as a memento when you retire."_

 _She rolled her eyes. "Again, not my point. But," she smiled in satisfaction, "I am glad I'll get to keep it." She will actually get to buy it off the LAPD, but that was beside the point._

 _Serious again, he said, "I know your point, Sharon, but I have no doubt that the Captain in you will still weasel her way into the NFL one way or another. You've nothing to worry about."_

Those words let that serene feeling settle inside of her again. She thanked Andy profusely for it in more than one way that night. After that she found the idea of letting go of her rank a little easier to stomach. She still worried about Rusty and about balancing her new job with her personal life, including Andy, but she felt reassured that they'd deal with it when and if they had to. She also had faith that they would handle it well.

Five days after her final interview, during lunch hour, she got a call. A call that said the job was hers.

Andy was out in the murder room, huddled together with his team as they made quick work of lunch, since they had an active case on their hands. After ending her call, she leaped out of her chair excitedly, and peeked her head out of her office. Being very careful to school her features, she asked Andy to join her in her office for a moment. Nobody thought much of it, least of all Andy, and he did as asked.

Had she been aware of her office blinds being drawn she'd have been grateful for it, for the moment Andy shut the door behind him she closed the distance between them and clasped his face between the palms of her hands.

Squeezing his face tightly, her voice giddy with excitement, she said, "I got the job!" With that, she plopped a kiss on his lips and let go of him, a ridiculously elated look on her face.

Andy's eyes went wide. "You got the job?" he asked, perplexed for a moment. "You got the job!" he confirmed excitedly when realization dawned on him. He pulled her into a bear hug, nearly lifting her off the floor. "Oh, my God, Sharon," he tightened his hold on her, "congratulations!" he finished, pulling back to look at her in awe.

She eyed her cellphone on the desk. "They just called." She shrugged and looked back at him. "I'm the NFL's new Chief of Security."

"You are!" he said merrily. He then groaned quietly. "Jesus, Sharon, _of course_ you are," he told her as if there never was any doubt about it.

She smiled, then brushed a hand through her hair, collecting herself. "I need to tell my kids, Assistant Chief Taylor, the team," she put a hand on her hip and started looking around her office distractedly, "sort out my retirement papers, talk to your partner, find-"

"Whoa!" Andy put his hands on the side of her arms. "Slow down, Captain."

She looked at him and shook her head. "Not right now, of course," she said, less frantically and more matter-of-factly. "We have a murder to solve, but," she nodded to herself, more than Andy, "afterwards I have a lot to do."

He chuckled. "Yeah, you do, but how about we finish lunch first, then tell the team?"

"Yes to lunch," she said on a smile. "But no to the team? Let's solve this case, then tell them?" Her smile turned coy and she added, "Maybe celebrate a little before everything else kicks in?"

He shook his head at her in amusement. "Who am I to say no to your sense of occasion?" he told her, letting go of her arms.

She raised an eyebrow. "Not even your partner dares say no to that," she said confidently.

"No, he doesn't," Andy agreed on a chuckle.

She grinned. "Go back to work then," she told him, giving his shoulder a gentle push. "The sooner we're do-"

Andy cut her off by suddenly leaning in and kissing her. Before she could either protest or reciprocate, he pulled back and smirked at the look of surprise on her face. When her eyes refocused on him, his smirk turned into a crooked smile and he quipped, "Since you were breaking our rules..."

"Oh, you're terrible," she admonished, still amused though. Pushing his shoulder a bit harder than earlier, she added, "Work, Lieutenant, work."

This time he listened and went for the door. Before opening it though, he gave her one more look. "I'm glad you got the job, Sharon," he told her solemnly.

She smiled and said thickly, "I know."

With that he offered her a curt nod, finally opened the door, and walked out.

 **TBC**

* * *

Don't forget to keep on telling me what you think! 😉


	3. Chapter 3

Thank you for your kind words on my previous chapter. I'm glad many of you've discovered the update despite the site being extremely lousy sending out alerts. But the issue seems to have been fixed finally, so let's just hope it stays that way!

Once again, thanks to MajorCFan for being my beta, and for just continually being so supportive of me and helpful as I tackle writing this story. By the way, she's started working on the sequel to her story 'Kismet', and the few bits I've read of it so far? Oh, boy! You've no idea what a treat you guys are in for! 😍

Here's the next chapter now. Have fun, and remember, I will love hearing your thoughts on it! 😊

* * *

 **TAKE THE PLUNGE - CHAPTER 3**

It was a busy four weeks that followed Sharon's fateful phone call. Most of that time was spent preparing for her retirement.

It took two days for them to finally close their case, and Sharon's first two orders of business were telling the team the good news and making an official appointment with Taylor to inform him of the same.

As expected, there were mixed feelings when she told the squad, and Andy couldn't blame them. Oh, he was happy for her, but that would not make the transition any easier. One thing that he hated having to get used to, was going into work knowing that, when he looked over his shoulder, it would be somebody else's face he'd see behind the glass walls there. Many more things were about to change, but, despite the challenges they were about to face, he was determined to make it all work. His determination, however, did little to protect him from the enormity of the situation really hitting him when she almost giddily informed their colleagues of her latest news.

Everybody congratulated her of course. They were heartfelt congratulations, too. But then a few other notes entered the conversation. Julio's note was a humorous one.

 _"Captain," he said, obviously suppressing a grin, "are you sure it's wise to leave us under somebody else's supervision?" He glanced over at Provenza, who, they all guessed, might step into that role even if Sharon was yet to formally address the matter with him._

They had all gotten a good laugh out of it. Mostly because of the scowl Julio earned himself with his not so subtle hinting. However, one thing struck Andy in that moment. Yes, they would still do their best to follow the rulebook to the letter, it would be an insult to Sharon if they didn't, but he had a feeling the air of ease with which they seemed to be doing it so far would leave the murder room along with her.

Buzz had had a different question.

 _"Does this mean Rusty won't be stopping by as often as he does now?" he asked._

The kid had grown on all of them, become part of their little police family as unexpectedly as Sharon had. While Sharon had argued that she wasn't the sole reason Rusty dropped by so often, unfortunately, the answer to that question was yes. Rusty was bound to spend less time hanging around with them since his mother would no longer be heading the division. That only further underlined the painful fact that things in their murder room were about to change.

Mike was more straightforward in addressing her impeding departure.

 _"We'll miss," he looked around at his squad, "working with you, Captain."_

With that sentence, Andy wholeheartedly agreed. It wasn't just a matter of not seeing her at work or seeing less of her outside of it. The entire team, not just him, worked exceptionally well with her. When he compared her to Chief Johnson, he found that he liked it that Sharon delegated much more than the Chief ever did, and that she was more than comfortable giving them a little more leeway when it came to chasing down leads, or even shutting their cases closed. Sharon's approach lulled them into a fine, effective rhythm and he was not looking forward to finding a new one. Even if Provenza ended up being the one to replace her, he would still have to do so.

Amy thought along more practical lines.

 _"Even if you take over, Sir," she was looking at Provenza before turning her attention to Sharon again, "that still means we will have an empty spot on the squad, doesn't it?"_

In confidence, Sharon had told Andy she was considering talking to Robbie Oderno. He had already worked well with them on a few occasions, and hopefully, he would be interested in doing so on a permanent basis now. Andy liked that idea. He hated to admit it, but he kind of liked the guy, too. However, regardless of them liking the idea, both Sharon and Andy knew there was another thing to be considered before they could plan that far ahead. It was Provenza, who, after one too many pointed fingers in his direction, snapped and pointed that out.

 _"You do realize that they'll never put a Lieutenant in charge of the division," he said in a huff. "And even if the powers that be were ready to spend some of their precious money on promoting someone into the position, odds are, I," he shook his head over a wide-eyed look, "will not be their first pick."_

Andy agreed with his partner, but for reasons beyond his comprehension, Sharon had been rather optimistic on that front, and in response, only requested a word with Provenza once she talked to Taylor. He wished he had been a fly on the wall for that conversation. Sharon was a prized failsafe in Taylor's eyes, and Andy doubted he would be too thrilled when Sharon handed in her retirement papers. To his surprise however, according to Sharon, that conversation had gone rather well.

 _Clutching a manila folder to her chest, Sharon sat across Assistant Chief Taylor in his office, and said, "There have been certain developments, Sir, that I need to discuss with you."_

 _Taylor rubbed a hand over his chin. "Those developments wouldn't by any chance have anything to do with your recently increased time off, now would it, Captain?"_

 _Sharon's eyes widened, revealing her surprise for the briefest of seconds. After all, he had made no inquiries so far. "Actually," she schooled her features, "they would, Chief."_

 _Taylor let out a, "Huh." Then a moment later, and much to Sharon's renewed surprise, he just shrugged. "Well, Captain," his voice thinned and went a little higher, "in that case," he smirked, "I figured you would wander into my office any day now."_

 _Sharon frowned, confused, but then as realization hit, her eyebrows went up and she simply stated, "You know Commander Harris."_

 _On a smile, he nodded. "I haven't heard from him in years, but we go way back, before he moved to Washington. And then a few months ago," Taylor put his elbows up on the desk and folded his hands under his chin, "I get a call from him asking about a certain Captain Raydor from the LAPD." He spelled those four letters out slowly, as if taking immense satisfaction from revealing this particular tidbit of information. He gave her a pointed look. "I take it you're NFL's new Chief of Security?"_

 _"Yes," Sharon confirmed on a sigh, finally extending a hand to give Taylor the folder she was clutching. "This is my four-week notice."_

 _Taylor took the folder and grabbed his glasses before opening it and quickly scanning over its content. "Retirement?"_

 _"As you know, I'm eligible for my full pension," she said, "and allowed to seek employment afterwards."_

 _He looked at her over the top of his glasses. "Oh, I'm aware." Putting the folder down, he said, "I just hoped you'd change your mind, Captain, but," he tapped his finger on her papers, "I guess this is a done deal."_

 _Sharon offered a small smile. "Trust me, it was not an easy decision, but yes," she nodded confidently, "my mind is set on it."_

 _Taylor leaned back in his chair and gave her a long look. When he spoke again, he sounded genuinely regretful. "The LAPD is losing one hell of an officer."_

 _"Thank you," Sharon said, nodding again._

 _"There's really no way I can talk you out of this?" he asked hopefully._

 _She chuckled. "No." She shook her head. "I've already confirmed with the NFL and told the team." She shrugged a single shoulder. "I'm looking forward to a new challenge now."_

 _"What did the team have to say?"_

 _"Apparently," Sharon raised an eyebrow, conveying her slight disbelief, "they'll miss me."_

 _Taylor chuckled. "How times have changed, huh?"_

 _"They certainly have," Sharon confirmed merrily._

 _Taylor sighed. "I guess there's just one more question here."_

 _"Yes?" Sharon said, her tone of voice indicating she knew exactly what that question was._

 _"Who the hell is going to replace you?" Taylor let out incredulously._

 _Sharon suppressed a chuckle and straightened a little in her chair. "About that, Chief..."_

Andy could barely believe how she accomplished it even after she explained it to him. She had mentioned personal reassurances regarding Provenza, and something about the department being able to easily afford his promotion in the wake of her retirement. But in the end, it didn't really surprise him that she had had a special ace up her sleeve to rope Taylor into agreeing to her little scheme.

 _"Take a seat, Lieutenant." Sharon waved a hand at one of the chairs in front of her desk._

 _Provenza closed the door behind him and did as asked. "How'd it go with Taylor?"_

 _"Oh," Sharon started cheerfully, "surprisingly well, actually."_

 _Provenza frowned. "He's not glad you're leaving, is he?" he asked incredulously._

 _Sharon smirked. "Are you?"_

 _The question took Provenza by surprise and he shifted in his chair slightly, stalling. Finally, he took a breath and shook his head while saying, "My sentiments about you have improved greatly in the past four years, Captain."_

 _Sharon smiled warmly at him. "And I am glad they have," she said pointedly._

 _Provenza frowned a little, then waved a hand at her, as if to chase away the topic. "So, Taylor?" he prompted._

 _Sharon leaned back in her chair and folded her arms to give him a look over the top of her glasses. "How does 'Captain Provenza' sound to you, Lieutenant?"_

 _His eyes widened. Shaking his head, he muttered, "Impossible is what it sounds like."_

 _She quirked an eyebrow at him. "Oh," she spoke in a lower timbre, "anything's possible these days."_

 _Provenza leaned forward, resting an elbow on his thigh as he pointed a finger at her. "You're telling me that Assistant Chief Taylor," he laced Taylor's rank with sarcasm, "agreed to promoting me in order to head Major Crimes?"_

 _Sharon smiled and gave him a single nod. "That is exactly what I'm telling you."_

 _Provenza swallowed. "How?"_

 _"I can be quite persuasive when I want to," Sharon told him cryptically. At his bland look, she admitted, "And I may have called in a favor or two."_

 _Provenza slumped back into his chair. "With all due respect, Captain," he gave her a single wave of a hand, "you're crazy."_

 _Sharon just laughed and shrugged it off. "I've been called worse, Lieutenant. What's your point?"_

 _"That you must have an awful lot of confidence in me to be calling in favors on my behalf." He lowered his gaze briefly before meeting her eyes again to add, "When it didn't work out last time, you and I both know it wasn't just because of my lack in rank."_

 _If she was surprised by his unexpected admission, Sharon hid it well. "So," her voice dipped a little with her obvious disbelief about what she was about to ask, "you doubt it will work out this time?"_

 _Provenza chuckled. "Believe it or not, Captain, I've picked up on one or two of your tricks."_

 _Amused, Sharon smiled and asked, "Do I detect a compliment, Lieutenant?"_

 _Provenza rolled his eyes, and painfully obviously changed the topic. "So what's the price?"_

 _Sharon frowned. "Price?"_

 _"This," he waved a hand between them, "is not how I'll get my Captain's badge."_

 _"Ah," Sharon let out on a chuckle. "Clear your morning, Lieutenant," she informed him. "Chief Taylor's expecting us tomorrow, at 8 am sharp."_

 _Provenza took to his feet. "Haven't even made Captain yet," he muttered under his breath, but still loud enough for Sharon to hear, "and I'm already sick of it."_

 _Sharon chuckled. "So is that a yes?" she asked more seriously._

 _Provenza gave her an incredulous look. "Of course it's a yes," he said in a huff. "We've barely gotten used to you. You think I'd just let somebody else swoop in now?" He didn't wait for her answer and warned, "Not if I have a say in it."_

 _She stood up as well and extended a hand to him over her desk. "Then we've got ourselves a deal," she told him._

 _He accepted her hand, but eyed her suspiciously. "A deal? I don't see what you're getting out of this, Captain."_

 _Her eyes flickered to her glass walls. The blinds were drawn but there was no doubt about who she sought out even as she said, "Keep them safe."_

 _He nodded and shook her hand. "Deal."_

Of course Taylor would owe Sharon a favor. Half the LAPD probably owed her for one thing or another. Favors, in their line of business, were like currency. Knowing how well Sharon handled her money, it did not surprise Andy that she handled her favors just as well. He only wished she had been able to cash in those favors for her personal benefit (he was still not over her Commander snub even if it had been nearly two years that he's known about it). Although to hear her tell it, this particular favor was very much for her benefit, and within a couple of weeks everything was set. After a few additional meetings between Provenza, Taylor and Sharon, and some promises and reassurances on Provenza's part, Andy's partner was officially set to become Captain and the head of Major Crimes on Sharon's last day with the LAPD. Following that particular good development had been the news of Robbie Oderno joining their ranks to fill in the vacant spot in Sharon's and Provenza's wake.

Amidst all that though, Andy found himself already missing her. He had started to feel like it took more effort to get to see her even before she finally got the job. But he did not complain. They still worked, and putting a little more effort into it was a small price to pay for that. However, these final four weeks before she finally retired only managed to intensify that feeling. As they both realized, four weeks was an incredibly short amount of time for Sharon to put all her affairs in order. Andy helped whichever way he could, mostly with some of the cases that were still pending trial. Since she was also already in the process of familiarizing herself with the work of her predecessor at the NFL, Andy noticed that she was running herself a little thin when, in the middle of all that, their division got thrown a new case, too. She may have been in the process of retiring, but that had not meant she was yet allowed to stop working those cases, so Andy found himself picking up some slack in that sense, grateful that, when she noticed, she had not complained.

Until one night late at work, they had little time to really talk about how things between them were going. They sat together, cut off from the world in her office, going through some of her old files, when she surprised him by revealing that they were on the same page.

 _Her heavy sigh had him look up from the open folder in his lap. "I already miss you," she said when she noticed him._

 _He gently closed his folder and smiled. "Tell me about it."_

 _She suddenly chuckled and said, "I never thought retiring would be this exhausting."_

 _Andy grinned and repeated, an incredulous touch to the words this time, "Tell me about it."_

 _That got her laughing. "Even trying to see you is becoming exhausting," she said as she sobered._

 _Andy nodded a bit ruefully. "You noticed, too, huh?"_

 _"Mhm," she hummed over a similar nod._

 _"It's just temporary," Andy said confidently. Shrugging, he added, "We'll get a proper hang of this once you start your new job, I'm sure."_

 _"So," her finger started fiddling with the corner of one the pieces of paper in front of her, "this trial run of ours," she looked up, "what's the verdict?"_

 _"You happy?" he said in response._

 _Her brow furrowed, and her fingers stilled. "Are you?" she countered, sounding a bit worried._

 _"As a clam," he quipped. When she narrowed her eyes at him, he added, more seriously, "I am."_

 _That made her features soften and she quietly agreed. "I am, too."_

 _"Good," Andy said cheerfully. "But I think there's still room for improvement."_

 _The look she gave him, told him she agreed, but, intrigued, she asked, "Got anything particular in mind?"_

 _He opened his folder again and, on a non-committal shrug, said, "Maybe."_

 _He felt her gaze on him for a few more beats, but she prodded no more, and returned to her own paperwork._

Andy had something _very_ particular in mind that he was yet to share with Sharon. He was waiting for her to start the job at the NFL, to see how things went, and how they managed and felt about their new situation, before deciding how and when to talk to her about his idea. However, as Sharon's final day at the LAPD approached, he shelved thinking about it. He had been wrapped up in something more immediate to deal with.

Her day was supposed to be a short one, her stay no longer than it took to formally say her goodbyes and let Provenza take over. Still, he prayed to any deity that would listen that their team did not catch a case that day. A case would rain on the parade that Andy and his team had in store for their soon to be former boss. Fortunately, as he showed up on her doorstep that morning, unannounced by the way, he found that his prayers had been answered, and so far, they were in for a quiet morning.

He had a key to Sharon's condo. When he moved back to his place, she had told him to keep it. However, he did not use it that morning but rang her doorbell instead.

As the door opened, he heard, "Andy, what are you doing here and why are you ri-" Sharon stopped mid-sentence when her gaze fell on the items draped over his forearms. "Is that your uniform?" she asked on a confused frown.

He nodded and grinned. "These," he lifted his arms a little, "are _our_ uniforms."

The crease between her brow only deepened. "How on earth did you get your hands o-" Again she stopped mid-sentence and suddenly turned her head toward the condo to holler, "Rusty!"

Andy chuckled. "Can you chew him out when I come in?" he asked.

She pursed her lips, unimpressed, but stepped aside to let him in. In a more proper hello, he gave her a quick peck on the cheek as he entered.

"What's up, m-" Rusty turned the corner and noticed Andy. "Oh, hi, Andy," he said on a grin.

"When did you give Andy my uniform?" Sharon questioned, not waiting for her boyfriend to return the greeting.

Rusty shrugged, unconcerned. "Yesterday morning."

That took Sharon aback. She opened her mouth to say something but apparently found words lacking. Andy took that as a chance to tease her. "Oh, you're just bugged," he started walking toward her bedroom, "because you didn't notice it was missing."

She snapped her mouth shut, shot Rusty, who started laughing, a look that was a mix of amusement and irritation, and quickly went after Andy. "What do you need my uniform for?" she asked him although he was already in her room.

When she reached the threshold, she found Andy standing in the middle of the room. He offered her the see-through bag that contained her uniform and said, "Just put it on and enjoy your surprise today."

"Oh, Andy," she deflated instantly, "you shouldn't have," she said softly as she took hold of her uniform.

"It's your last day with the LAPD," Andy said on a shrug. "Of course I, actually, _we_ , should have." When she shook her head at him in disbelief, he added, "Don't worry, it's just the team, nothing big."

She took a couple of steps towards him. "I love you," she told him, propping up on her toes to give him a kiss.

Andy smirked. "Wait till you see the party."

She laughed and walked into the bathroom to get changed.

...

As promised, it was just a small affair. The team, all of them in uniform, including Buzz, greeted her upon arrival by standing huddled together under a "Goodbye, Captain!" plaque and starting to clap. They had discussed yelling out "Surprise!" but decided to tone it down a little.

Sharon seemed touched at the mere sight of them, and Andy wasn't surprised that she didn't mind it when he wrapped an arm around her in comfort. He was surprised, however, when she stopped him when he tried to pull away. He guessed that she was a little overwhelmed and that she knew nobody would fault her for cutting professional distance some slack on her last day at work anyway.

She was touched that the team got her a cake that said, "Kick some NFL butt, Captain!" That Amy got a little teary-eyed when it was her turn to propose a toast in Sharon's name (Provenza grumbled a little about the apple cider, of course). That Buzz thanked her for helping him out with his reserve officer training any way she could, even though he grumbled about Rusty every now and then. That Julio promised to keep his temper in check even if she wasn't there to do so herself. That Mike promised to make sure Andy and Provenza didn't get up to too much trouble.

Who touched her the most though, was Provenza. If Andy was being honest with himself, he choked up a little at his partner's gesture as well.

"I'm moving this into your former office as soon as possible," Provenza told her, walking toward his desk, "but, since you're letting me sit in your chair for a while," he pulled out his desk chair with a flourish, "I was wondering if you'd like a taste of mine."

Sharon smiled brightly, and turned briefly to Andy to give him her plate with a half-eaten piece of cake on it, then followed her soon to be formerly second in command. "Why thank you, Lieutenant." She made to accept the offered seat, but paused long enough to correct herself. " _Captain_."

Provenza shook his head and muttered, "I'm telling my grandkids to still call me 'Lieutenant'."

That had the whole team chuckle. Sharon, albeit also laughing, swept a hand over the top of his desk. "May I rearrange a few things, too?" she asked, throwing Provenza a mischievous look.

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Don't push your luck, Captain."

She grinned and took a swirl in his chair. "You've got a lovely view here, Louie," she said as she came to a stop, facing him.

His eyes widened for a moment. It was impossible to miss the both impressed and shocked looks exchanged by the rest of the squad, but he suddenly extended her a hand. "Good luck, Sharon," he told her as she accepted it and got to her feet again. Not shaking her hand, but not letting go of it either, he looked around for a moment and added, "I have some big shoes to fill," he settled his gaze on her again, "and I promise to try not to disappoint."

She smiled a watery smile and pushed her luck a little more by wrapping him in a hug. When, somewhat awkwardly, he hugged her back, she thickly said, "I have complete faith in you that you won't." With that she pulled back.

He nodded once, then dropped his gaze to the floor. "Thank you," he finally said, collecting himself enough to meet her eyes again.

The sound of hurried footsteps approaching the murder room drew everybody's attention to the room's entrance. A second later, Andrea, with Morales in tow, entered their field of view. "We're not too late, are we?" she asked.

Sharon shot Andy a look. "I thought you said just the team?"

He shrugged. "I thought those two are part of the team!" he said defensively.

Morales feigned a mildly offended look, while the team chuckled at the exchange. Hooking a thumb in the direction out of which he came, he said, "We can leave if you'd like, Captain."

"Oh, no," Sharon said softly, "you _are_ part of the team." She waved a hand for them to come closer. "I was just surprised is all."

Andrea smiled and walked further into the room. "I believe that was the point, Sharon," she said sarcastically.

"You _are_ late though," Provenza grumbled.

"Sorry." Morales shrugged. "Dead body," he added in explanation as he leaned over the cake, probably to make out the writing on it.

"Court dragged out," Andrea explained on an eye roll.

"Well," Sharon smiled, quickly glancing over the rest of her squad before settling on Andrea and Morales, "I'm glad I get to say my formal goodbyes to you now, too."

...

"I can't believe you took the day off," Sharon said. She seemed torn between wanting to admonish him for it and being impressed by it.

Andy opened the passenger side door of his car for her. "What can I say," he shrugged, "the new boss and I are old buddies."

He had sprung that part of his surprise on her as she bid her final official goodbyes, after getting the last of her work affairs in order. Earlier in the morning he had talked her into carpooling with him, under the premise that he'd just use his lunch break a little earlier in order to give her a ride back to the condo. Considering the few emotional hours she had just had, he wasn't surprised that, beyond offering this particular remark, she had not tried talking him out of it.

She shook her head at him in amusement and took her seat. When he scurried over to the driver's side and took his own seat, he paused once he got the car running. "Ready?" he asked, looking at her. She had been teary-eyed and fighting for composure earlier as she left the murder room, no longer an officer of the law.

"I'm going to miss this place," she said sadly, looking around.

Andy smirked. "The garage?"

She gave him a bland look. "That smirk though," she reached a hand out to roughly brush it over his cheek, "I won't," she told him sarcastically.

Andy shrugged unconcerned, and got the car moving. "Of course you won't." He made sure to smirk at her again. "After all, you're leaving the LAPD," he raised an eyebrow, "not _me._ "

She smiled what Andy thought was an involuntary smile because she said, "Maybe I should reconsider that."

He turned to look at her as they reached a red light. Smugly, he started, "But then you'd-"

"Ah-ah!" she warned, pressing a finger to his lips. "Eyes on the road, mister."

He laughed and did as ordered. As traffic got moving again, he finally sobered and said, "I'm gonna miss carpooling with you." They did not carpool often. Sometimes, if they spent the night at each other's place, or occasionally if they had plans before or after work, almost never during active cases, but his words were still genuine.

She hummed in agreement, then shifted slightly to give him a look over an upturned eyebrow. "I do expect sharing a ride with you to and from the airport as often as possible."

He threw her a quick look. "That goes without saying." He grinned as he focused on the road again. "Although, I expect proper compensation for my services," he added jokingly.

She smiled and looked in front of herself again. "We can work something out," she said, her voice shaking slightly with laughter.

...

"Did I thank you?" Sharon asked out of the blue as they silently rode the empty elevator up to her floor.

Andy's eyebrows went up and he looked at her. "For what?"

She brushed her shoulder against his. "For the uniforms."

He smiled and snaked an arm around her waist. "After our talk the other night," he shrugged, "I figured you'd wanna indulge in your Captainship a little while longer."

She leaned into his side and hummed contentedly. "You figured correctly, Lieutenant."

The elevator came to a stop and the doors opened. "Well," Andy said on a slightly higher pitch as they walked into the hallway, "I may have also had an ulterior motive."

"Oh." She gave him a surprised look. A second later it turned coy and she added, "Is that so?"

He grinned. "What do you think?" he asked on a wink.

They had reached the door and, as she fiddled with the lock, she eyed his uniform appreciatively. "That I like your ulterior motives?" she quipped, pushing the door open.

He just laughed in response and followed her inside.

Rusty had classes and wasn't due home till lunch, so they knew they'd find the place empty. Andy was busy unlacing his shoes when he heard Sharon sigh heavily. He looked up and found her staring at the cabinet in front of her, a hand resting above her right hip.

"What?" he asked, confused.

She turned around, a wistful look on her face. "Whenever my service weapon was on my hip," she tapped her belt with her hand, "this," she eyed the cabinet, "is where I would leave it when I got home, and now," she shrugged and lowered her hand, a shake of her head ending her sentence.

Today she had to turn in her official service weapon. She could have bought and kept it, she was eligible for that. However, she had a personal back up weapon already, and even though she could more than afford it, especially with her new job, she had decided against it. Andy doubted she was regretting the decision right now, but he could understand the sentimental value behind it. He toed off his shoes and walked over to her. Placing his hands on her hips, he waited a second for her to look at him. While he could understand the fact being something she would have to get used to, her reaction prompted him to ask, "You're not having second thoughts about this now?"

To his relief she smiled and shook her head profusely. "Oh, no, I am absolutely thrilled to start working for the NFL tomorrow." She wrapped her hands around his forearms, her grip on them excited. "But it suddenly just hit me how much things are changing," she added, her smile fading a little.

Wanting to lighten the mood, Andy groaned and said, "Tell me about it." He squeezed her hips. "Do you have any idea what it will be like to see Provenza's ugly mug in your office from now on?" He gave her a wide eyed look. "He won't be tapping my shoulder," he lifted a hand to tap hers, "the way you do. He'll just smack the back of my head or something to get my attention."

She snorted. Failing to keep her laughter at bay, she still managed to say, "I'm sure he'll just yell, 'Flynn!'"

Her poor impersonation of his partner had Andy laugh with her. "Sure," he said sarcastically, "just before or after he calls me an idiot."

"Maybe I _should_ be having second thoughts about this," she said on a chuckle.

"Too late," Andy quipped, pecking her on the lips. "You promised me Super Bowl tickets. There's no backing out now."

She snaked her arms around him. "Is that," he grinned at the silly smile on her face, "why you're so supportive of this?" She raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "To get live Super Bowl access?"

"That is precisely why I'm so supportive of this," he deadpanned just before kissing her again.

"Thank you," she said quietly, pulling away.

Surprised, Andy raised an eyebrow at her. "I thought we've already covered that?"

"Not really," she shook her head, "I only asked if-"

He cut her off by kissing her once more. "You're welcome, Sharon," he told her on a smile when he pulled back only far enough to catch his breath.

She smiled. "So," she started fiddling with his tie, "your secret agenda?"

"Ulterior motive," Andy quickly and smugly corrected.

Sharon looked at him, an eyebrow raised. "Care to do something about that _secret agenda?_ " She repeated her wording pointedly.

"Nope," he quipped, and took an abrupt step away from her.

Stumped beyond words, she just stared at him, making Andy laugh.

"When will I ever get to see you in uniform again, huh?" he challenged, walking away from her further into the condo.

She shot his retreating back a narrow-eyed look, but relented. "Fair point."

...

When Rusty came home for the lunch Andy and Sharon had the pleasure of preparing together, he had eyed them and their still donned uniforms suspiciously, but either knew better than to inquire, or didn't care enough to do so. Andy doubted it had anything to do with the latter. In the late afternoon, after Rusty had excused himself to meet up with Gus, and after Sharon packed her little travel bag for her morning trip to Buffalo where she was set to organize security for a game for the first time in her NFL career, Sharon and Andy found themselves going over her schedule.

Due to rather strict security measures at the NFL, her schedule was not a matter of public record, however, that did not forbid her from sharing it from those she trusted, her children and Andy in particular. She would not be heading to every scheduled game, and she would most certainly never take off on one of her trips without letting either her kids or Andy know, but they wanted to go over it just so they had a general idea of how often they would or wouldn't see each other. They also decided to keep Provenza appraised of her schedule. Neither one of them liked to think about it, but they knew from painful experience that something could always happen in the line of Andy's duty. To avoid putting more responsibility on Rusty's shoulders than he would already have with Sharon not at home as often as before, they wanted Provenza to know where she was and how she was reachable at any given moment.

Andy found it a little depressing that their schedules would differ so much from now on, and that it would take more planning than usual to get around to spending time with each other. As he realized he would not be seeing her for New Year's Eve, with a painful pang of regret, it also dawned on him just how much of their limited time together would also be wasted on merely organizing to see each other.

He nearly blurted out right then and there what his particular idea was. He didn't want to waste time on commute, too. But he thought bringing it up now would seem desperate. Or she would interpret it as him offering additional reassurances that he knew she would not appreciate, and not because she generally felt she didn't need them. He did not think she would refuse it, however, but he did believe she would need time to process it. And with everything else they had to process right now, he thought it wouldn't hurt to let the dust settle first either. So he shelved the matter again, and, grabbing her phone out of her hand, decided to fill his head with different thoughts.

"I wasn't done," she admonished, but made no move to stop him as he put her phone down on the coffee table.

"Yeah, you are," he said confidently, reaching over the couch to her end of it to tug on her tie. "Come here." She chuckled a little, but scooted over to him without protest. "You know," he smiled when her hand started trailing a familiar path down his tie, "while I cannot wait for those Super Bowl tickets," she gave him an amused smile, "I am gonna miss you whenever you're out of town," he told her seriously.

"Me, too," she said on a sigh, her hand stilling. "But," she went on more optimistically, "you can look forward to a regular ticket every now and then, too."

His laugh ebbing away, he said, "So our trial run," he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, "I think we did good."

She leaned into his hand and nodded. "Rusty did, too."

He hummed in agreement. "He'll be completely over you by the end of regular football season," he teased.

She laughed softly. "Shame I can't keep his attention with tickets like yours."

His eyes went purposefully over her apparel. "Try the uniform," he offered. "That works for me, too."

That had her snort uncontrollably in laughter, and she hid her face in his upper arm. Finally, looking up again, she said, sounding genuinely incredulous, "I can't believe I'm trusting you to keep an eye on him for me."

He shrugged. "As the sole police officer in this family, I am more than up to the task."

Her suddenly watery smile had him raise an eyebrow at her in question. "Family?" she asked in response.

It was an unintentional slip of the tongue, but he knew not his first one. Surprised by her teary reaction, he smiled and simply confirmed, "Family."

She pressed her lips to his in a heady display of emotion, then abruptly got to her feet, grabbing hold of his hand, before he could even process what was going on, much less react.

"Come," she prompted and tugged on his hand when he made no move to stand up.

He finally stood up, but stayed rooted to the spot despite her now impatient tug. "Where?"

She paused and took an even more impatient sounding breath. "To say goodbye to my uniform," she quipped and let go of his hand to saunter toward her bedroom.

"Yes, Captain!" he exclaimed and went after her.

 **TBC**


	4. Chapter 4

Your messages and reviews are awesome, it's great to hear you guys are enjoying this story so far! 😊

As always, my thanks go to my amazing beta, MajorCFan. For those of you who followed her story 'Kismet', let me just tease you by saying that a toothpick will have quite an important plot role in the first chapter of her sequel. 😉

Anyways, here I go. Enjoy!

* * *

 **TAKE THE PLUNGE - CHAPTER 4**

Sharon made two more NFL trips in the next four weeks. They each lasted four days, shorter than she had anticipated as she found out that there was much more she could coordinate out of LA than originally thought. The people she worked with were rather welcoming, and her initial worry about having to put more effort into gaining their respect proved itself completely unfounded. Instead, she actually found herself putting effort into getting them to relax a little. Gossip spread in the NFL just as fast as it did at the LAPD, so much of the worst parts of her reputation had found their way into her new workplace. However, now over a month into her new job, she was slowly starting to get the hang of things, and certain matters already fell into a nice routine.

The only downside to her lighter workload than originally anticipated was the fact that Major Crimes had caught a case right between her two trips. From what Andy had told her, it was big enough to warrant Assistant Chief Taylor breathing down their collective necks. Robbie Oderno fit in just as expected. Even Provenza, much to Sharon's surprise, was cutting him a little slack until he fell fully into the team's rhythm. Unfortunately, the rest of the team, or more precisely Provenza's second in command, Andy, bore the unwanted consequence of needing to pick up some of that slack.

She and Andy had not spent as much time together as they had hoped they would. It certainly did not help that on the few nights they spent, or tried spending together, Andy got rolled out to a crime scene. Once things on Andy's work front cooled down, they realized that so far things between them were running rather smoothly, even if they still worked harder than usual at coordinating their respective schedules. Rusty, too, was reaping the benefits of her lighter schedule, and Sharon was proud to say that she was as up-to-date in all matters regarding Rusty as she had been while she had headed Major Crimes.

She was in for a mean surprise, however, when she returned from a trip in mid-October. Andy was supposed to pick her up, but instead she found Rusty waiting for her. She and Andy had agreed he would let her know if work got in the way of his airport transportation services, but she had received no calls or texts informing her of any plan change. It was the first time that he failed to pick her up himself though, and he could have just forgotten to tell her, so she did not worry. However, when Rusty noticed her approach and all but ran toward her, worry made a rather prominent appearance.

"What's wrong?" she said in greeting as she accepted her son's hug.

He pulled back and swallowed. "Uh, there's been a shooting at a crime scene." Her heart dropped into her stomach, and she must have visibly blanched or something, for Rusty suddenly pulled her back tightly into his embrace, and as if reading her mind, added, "Andy's fine, mom!" He pulled back. "The team is, too, but, uh," he cleared his throat, "Chief Taylor was shot."

She put a hand over her mouth to stifle her gasp. "Wh-"

Rusty didn't let her finish the first word, much less the rest of her question. "I have no idea what happened." He gave her a worried, wide-eyed look. "Andy just called me a couple of hours ago and said that the Chief got shot and," he was fidgety, speaking in quick succession, "that he was taken to a hospital, and that I should pick you up." He shrugged and added, sadly, "I don't know how the Chief's doing."

She took a breath. _Hospital._ She took that as a good sign. "Did he tell you which hospital?" she asked, trying to think rationally.

Rusty nodded, relieving her of her carry-on bag, more in order to calm down his fidgeting hands than due to good manners, and said, "Yeah, uh, Cedars."

"Okay, let's go." She didn't wait for Rusty to process her sentence, but immediately started for the exit, already busy fishing her phone out of her pocket.

Andy picked up on the third ring. "Hey." He sounded exhausted.

"What happened?" she asked instantly.

"Where are you?" he asked in response.

She rolled her eyes, letting Rusty lead the way to the car. "On my way to Cedars."

He groaned before responding. "Things got a little crazy here, I only managed to tell Rusty to pick you up, but-" He sounded as if he was explaining it not just to her, but to himself as well, and a heavy sigh cut his sentence short. Even before he went on, she knew the worst had come to pass. "Taylor died in the ambulance, Sharon."

Still, the sentence felt like being drenched in cold water. "What happened, Andy?" she asked on an incredulous sigh.

Her tone of voice had Rusty giving her a worried look, but she just lifted a hand up as if to tell him to wait a moment, and listened to Andy's reply. "Have Rusty drop you off at the PAB, we'll be there by the time you arrive. I'll fill you in then, okay?"

She wanted to argue, but knew it wasn't a conversation to be held over the phone. "Okay," she sighed, "just tell me you're okay? All of you?"

There was a pause on Andy's side, during which they finally reached Rusty's car. "Yeah, we're fine," he finally said. "Shaken up, but otherwise okay."

"Okay," she opened the passenger side door, "see you soon."

"Okay," he paused again, and quietly added, "I love you."

She smiled sadly, taking her seat. "Me, too," she said and with that the call disconnected.

Sounding slightly panicky now, Rusty instantly pounced on her. "Mom, what's going on?"

...

An hour later, Rusty pulled up to LAPD Headquarters. She had filled him in on the way on what little Andy had told her, then ushered him home. She doubted there was anything useful for her to do there, but she definitely knew there was nothing for Rusty to do. He headed home, but only reluctantly.

She should have been surprised to see Andy waiting for her by the elevators, but at the sight of him, the only thought that went through her head was that he was indeed fine. The area was eerily empty, not that under these circumstances she would have cared if it wasn't, so when she reached him, wordlessly, she wrapped her arms around him.

His return embrace was tight, and when she felt him take a deep breath, she tightened her own hold on him. Pulling away, he tilted his head to the elevators. "Come on."

The ride up to their floor was a silent one, without a single stop on their way. Their little bubble of sadness and shock wasn't even burst once they finally reached their destination. Apart from a pair of two uniformed officers walking down the hall, quietly talking to each other, there did not seem to be much going on. Sharon found that suspicious. Somebody had shot and killed the LAPD's Assistant Chief. She had expected the entire department to be on its feet in search of the perpetrator.

"What on earth happened, Andy?" she finally asked as he held the door to the murder room open for her.

"Idiots happened, Sharon," he said angrily.

She couldn't say anything to that, for she was confronted with the sight of the team seated behind their desk, dejectedly, pretending to be working rather than actually doing so. They looked up and greeted her, forgetting or not caring that she no longer was a Captain. They did not seem surprised to see her. Andy must have told them she was on her way.

Returning their greeting, without bothering to correct the way they addressed her, Sharon's gaze fell on the murder board. It was empty. That added puzzlement to her earlier suspiciousness. Before she could give voice to any of it, Provenza stepped out of her former office and got straight to the point which Andy had been unintentionally, she knew, dragging out so much.

"If you're wondering why that board is empty," Provenza mumbled on his way to her, "it's because the case is pretty much closed already." He sounded as angry as Andy.

"Just waiting for the ballistics to come back," Andy added on a shrug.

Sharon gave them both a puzzled look and with that they finally told her what had happened.

 _"I need this one to be by the book, Provenza," Taylor said as he entered the kitchen._

 _Provenza shot Andy who was on the other side of the room an irritated look, but let Kendall go back to examining the victim. A pool of blood was in the middle of the kitchen's floor and on top of it, the body of a young woman, apparently shot to death. "Is there any other way, Chief?" he asked sarcastically as he turned to face his immediate supervisor._

 _"I've got the Chief and the Mayor breathing down my neck on this one, Captain," Taylor said, waving a finger at him._

 _"Well, at least that explains why you're here," Provenza muttered more to himself than Taylor before raising his voice again and addressing him properly. "It takes more than 20 minutes to solve a murder, Chief."_

 _Taylor glared at him for a moment, a hand on his hip. Abruptly letting his hand fall to his side, he said, "I'll look around, then I want an update in 2 hours at the PAB," he shot Provenza a pointed look, "is that understood?"_

 _Provenza looked like he suppressed an eye roll, but he rather diligently said, "Yes, Sir."_

 _"What's up with him?" Andy asked as he flipped through his little notebook the moment Taylor was out of sight._

 _"If the Mayor and Pope are up in arms," Provenza mumbled, his gaze on the victim, "nothing good."_

Amy explained, "The victim was a relative of one of our Police Commissioners, Ma'am."

Sharon's eyebrows briefly went up. On a nod of understanding, she said, "Ah."

 _10 minutes later, Kendall was just about to bag the body and prepare it for transport, when a loud thud followed by two successive gunshots rang through the house._

 _By the time Andy and Provenza had their hands on their weapons, a third gunshot went off._

 _Simultaneously, Andy and Provenza barked their orders, already running out of the kitchen._

 _"Do not move!" Provenza ordered Kendall, who had ducked to the ground at the sound of the shots as if they had gone off over his head, and not somewhere on the second floor of the house._

 _Andy pointed a hand at Kendall. "Stay put and watch him!" he ordered a uniformed officer who had been in the middle of running after them, but came to an abrupt stop at the issued order._

"We found the Chief in the upstairs bedroom," Mike said. Moving from under his desk, he added, speaking in a hollow voice, "I tried my best until the ambulance got there, but..." He trailed off, shaking his head.

It was only then that Sharon noticed his appearance. His pants were bloodied at the knees, and on the lower part of his shirt she recognized blood stains as well. She briefly wondered whether his sleeves were covered in blood, but she couldn't tell because he had his suit jacket on.

Julio sounded both proud and impressed as he said, "Chief took two in the chest and still managed to put a bullet between the guy's eyes."

It still did not completely explain the empty murder board, but Sharon had another question on her mind. "When did this happen?"

They all exchanged a look. It took Andy a moment to consult his watch and to finally say, "Maybe 3 hours ago."

Provenza nodded. "Mike rode with him to the hospital, but they lost him before they got there," he explained, looking genuinely shocked.

"And the man who killed," Sharon's throat clenched up a little over that final word, "Chief Taylor is?"

Andy answered. "We identified him as the victim's ex-husband. Got a record for domestic violence and carrying unregistered firearms."

"Jealousy then?" Sharon inquired in terms of motive.

Julio nodded. "Victim just got re-married."

"So," Sharon instinctively turned toward the board, as she had often done when mulling over cases, only to remember that it was empty, "you have proof he killed his ex-wife?" If they did, it definitely explained the blank board in front of her.

"The gun he had on him matched the casings we found in the kitchen, Ma'am," Oderno answered on a nod. "We just need firearms to confirm."

She nodded, it would be an open and shut case afterwards. Unexpectedly, as another realization hit her, anger washed over her. Finally, she understood Provenza's and Andy's earlier rage. "What was the suspect doing in that bedroom?"

Nobody missed the dangerous lower timbre her voice took on, and her former division exchanged looks that said they both were and weren't surprised by her reaction.

Andy answered, nearly spitting the words out. "Unis did not secure the house properly."

Sharon sighed. Yes, that had been the conclusion that she had come to as well. Only if uniforms had not cleared the perimeter properly, could an armed man have remained hidden in a house swarming with police officers. "Have-"

Provenza quirked an eyebrow at her and interrupted, sounding ever so slightly amused. "Professional Standards paid us a visit?"

A small smile, despite the situation, lifted one side of her mouth. "I take that as a yes, Captain?"

His earlier anger crossed his features and he muttered, "First time in my life I actually took pleasure in calling them myself."

They all managed a chuckle, but it was a short-lived one, and they quickly lapsed into a heavy, grieving silence. She was no longer their boss, still, she felt the need to tell them something. "He died a hero," she finally said, unable to recall the exact moment in which she decided to say just that.

Provenza chuckled bitterly. "The man did always know how to take credit."

"Credit was due today though, Sir," Julio said quietly.

They all nodded solemnly and Provenza suddenly gruffly said, "Go home." They all looked at him in surprise. "I'm sure we'd like to get our revenge, but," his scoff sounded mildly impressed, "the Chief beat us to it." He shrugged and momentarily closed his eyes before adding, "Today, we lost one of our own, and while we wait for a call on ballistics, I believe we are allowed to take a moment to deal with this tragedy without all these," he looked around until his eyes finally settled on Mike and his ruined attire, "reminders."

...

They did go home. They did get a call about the ballistics. Chief Taylor did indeed kill the murderer of the victim that led them to that house in the first place. The case was no longer 'pretty much' closed, it was now airtight.

Three days later, everybody was still reeling from the events. As if losing an officer in the line of duty wasn't hard enough to stomach, the fact that it had been that high a ranking one only added salt to injury, and put the entire department in temporary chaos. Nobody liked to think about it, but a replacement for Taylor was necessary. Merely hours after his death, one had been appointed, too. Provenza and his division were now answering to interim Assistant Chief Fritz Howard. However, voices opposed to promoting a former FBI agent to the position were raised, and they did not like having him there even in a temporary capacity.

Today though, was Taylor's funeral, and the political situation at the LAPD had been put aside for a moment.

Sharon and Andy found themselves preparing for it in Andy's bedroom. She was sitting at the foot of his bed in her old uniform. It was a bitter thought to think that even in retirement, there would still be occasions such as these that would allow her to wear it again. Watching as he buttoned up his uniform's shirt, she fiddled with his tie, ready to put it on him once he was done.

She was supposed to be on a flight to New York that day, but had managed to postpone it for the next one. Andy had tried assuring her that nobody would mind her not being there, after all, she was no longer working for the LAPD. Yet she felt obligated to go. She, and everybody really, may have had their fair share of differences with Russell Taylor, but she had also served with him for as long as he had been on the force. Provenza was the only one who actually knew him from his first day on the job, but she had known him long enough to think of it as a lifetime as well. Even Rusty wanted to pay his respects and would be attending the funeral as a civilian along with DDA Hobbs and Doctor Morales.

"It's instances like these when I hate these things," Sharon told Andy as she tied his tie around his neck.

He sighed, one of his fingers going over the black band wrapped around her badge. "I think we only ever formally whip out our uniforms for funerals."

She hummed, nodding. "There," she adjusted his knot one more time, then, trailing a hand down his tie, took a step back, adding, "all done."

The ceremony was as expected. Formal. Somber. Sad. Watching Taylor's wife, children and other family members in the front row had Sharon's chest constrict with painful emotion. That had forever been a worry of hers as she practically single-handedly raised her children; forcing them into that front row one day. She had been lucky though. More shielded from the perils of the job in IA than the other divisions. Those dangers no longer threatened her at all now.

Instead, she had other worries.

She squeezed Andy's hand tightly, shifting ever so slightly closer to him, as her gaze fell down the line of officers she commanded not so long ago. It got Andy's attention. He looked down at their joined hands, then, following her gaze, squeezed her hand back.

It could have been any one of them. It could have been Andy. She could have been sitting in that front row, next to his children, and she was fairly certain her own, even if nothing bound them together legally.

She swallowed back a painful lump in her throat as Taylor's wife was handed the ceremoniously folded flag. How her life had changed in a matter of three gunshots. Sharon wouldn't wish it upon her worst enemies.

They went out for drinks afterwards. Nothing celebratory, certainly not happy. It was merely a moment they all took to bid Taylor one final goodbye before life inevitably moved on.

And move on, it did.

The pace of life picked up, too.

Sharon's current lighter schedule was short lived. Due to some internal incidents, she had been forced to make two extra business trips that were not on her original calendar.

By then, she had gotten a pretty good hold on the organizational side of her job, but those two trips proved that, when it came to the more political side of it, she would have to tread lightly for reasons slightly more different than those in the LAPD. Both organizations were very much under the scrutiny of the public eye. At the LAPD she had to worry about the public's reaction in terms of successfully closing her cases, or in terms of manipulating the public in order to do the same. Manipulation was certainly an integral part to the NFL's dealings with the public. However, within it, she found herself working to get the public off their backs rather than using it to her advantage for a more nobler cause.

She found herself missing that nobler cause actually. Especially after having to deal with football players who only got into trouble due to pesky things, such as over-inflated egos or machismo. Still, she liked football too much to wallow in what she missed. Instead, she took her task of making sure the NFL not only dealt with their incidents, but was also seen doing so by the public, just as seriously as she did when she was given the task of doing nearly the same thing for LAPD's Major Crimes Division. Oh, she would have loved to wield around her badge and put a few people in their place, but she found herself taking even more satisfaction in accomplishing that without it.

Balancing those new work challenges with her life at home, she had to admit, had become slightly more difficult, too. On the account of her two unplanned trips, she had to cancel a few of her private plans. Unfortunately, those cancelled plans involved Andy rather than Rusty. Andy didn't mind. His own children would come first to him, just as hers would to her. Not that it would affect her resolve to not neglect her youngest son, but she still appreciated that Andy understood. According to Rusty though, Andy was more understanding than he should be.

 _"You do know I won't mind if you head over to Andy's, right?" Rusty told her as they settled on the couch for a quiet movie night._

 _She smiled at him, holding off on starting the movie with the remote she was holding. "And he doesn't mind me wanting to spend time with you," she told him pointedly._

 _"I know, mom," he told her on a shrug. "But I live here, you're bound to see me anyway."_

 _"I'm not if I'm at another place," she countered, suppressing a smirk. "Besides, I don't want to_ just _see you," she added gently._

 _He shot her an unimpressed look, then narrowed his eyes at her. "You just want to make sure you know absolutely everything." He made sure to thoroughly lace the last two words with exasperation._

 _She shrugged a single shoulder. "That, too," she quipped._

 _He shook his head and mumbled, "No wonder everybody still calls you 'Captain'."_

 _She laughed, then turned slightly to get a better look at him. "So, speaking of wanting to know absolutely everything..." She prompted him with a look that said, "Anything I don't know?"_

 _He smiled, still exasperated, but clearly amused now, too. "Well, as a matter of fact, I've been thinking."_

 _"Oh," she straightened a little on the spot as if to make sure her focus was solely on him. "Thinking about what?"_

 _He grimaced. "Lawyers." The answer sounded like a question._

 _"Is that so?" she asked, not sounding as nonchalant as she would have liked. She had been thinking about lawyers, too. Sooner than him probably._

 _He gave her a curious look, but then took a breath. "Well, I know I've been working toward journalism and all." He shrugged. "But I think advocacy might be something I'd do more meaningful work in." He dropped his gaze and focused it on his hands in his lap._

 _She smiled. Yes, she had come to the same conclusion. His work on Slider's and Mariana's cases had been for journalistic purposes, but it was largely driven by his sense of right and wrong. She had been wondering if he might better satisfy that sense in a profession where he could also influence the outcome rather than just report on it. "Well, journalism is not set in stone, Rusty. If this is how you feel-"_

 _"I think it is," he frowned a little and shifted on his side of the couch to face her better. "But law school." He gave her a wide eyed look. "That's a big deal. I'd have to finish up my current classes. Maybe look for an internship just so I can even get-"_

 _She quieted him down by placing a hand over his fidgeting ones. "Are you trying to talk me or yourself into it?" she asked._

 _He chuckled. "Neither." He shrugged. "It's just a lot to take on, so I'm-"_

 _"Nervous? Worried?" She pulled her hand back. "Want to look at it from all the angles?" she listed off, smiling at him in amusement._

 _He laughed nervously and nodded. "Was it that hard for you to take the NFL job?" he finally asked._

 _"That," she paused for a split second, "would be an understatement."_

 _He gave her a long look. "You're not regretting it, are you?" he asked somewhat hesitantly._

 _"Oh, no," she said on a laugh. "It is making life a little more complicated," she admitted, then gave him a pointed look, "but I am still enjoying myself."_

 _When he looked away, she knew he got her veiled point. A more difficult challenge did not necessarily take away the thrill out of facing it._ _He just absentmindedly nodded, without saying anything more, so she added, "Whatever you decide though, I will support you, Rusty."_

 _He looked up at her again, a strange look on his face, but finally he smiled and confidently said, "I know."_

 _She smiled, then finally pressed 'play' on her remote._

While her son considered his study options, their conversation prompted Sharon to consider something else. She made him a priority precisely because she did not want to be left in the dark about anything. She would not call herself a prying mother, she never forced her children into spilling every detail of their lives to her. However, she appreciated being well informed, and she would not allow her be the reason for that not being the case. But she realized that resolve extended to Andy as well. She wanted to know about him as much as possible, and participate in his life as much as possible. Rusty's conversation, although certainly not purposeful on his part, made her wonder whether she was maybe missing out on more with Andy than she absolutely had to. More importantly, she wondered how to remedy the situation if that was the case.

Though for now, she was hoping for another situation to resolve itself. The heat at the LAPD was rising as the battle for the Assistant Chief's position intensified, and Andy's division found itself under more scrutiny than they had since Sharon took over five years ago.

It was making Andy nervous, his division, too. No longer being an official part of the LAPD, there was little she could do to help Andy on that front so she took comfort in the fact that, despite a few more cancelled get-togethers than either of them liked, what time they did manage to spend together they never wasted. She knew for a fact that both felt better after merely talking to each other over the phone. Naturally, it only helped when they got to see each other in person as well.

On her last evening in town, before Sharon was headed to Cleveland in late November, the two actually got around to having dinner with Provenza and Patrice. She had seen Provenza in passing, but it had been a welcome change of pace to indulge in a double date, though neither Andy nor Provenza would ever agree to label it as such. The purpose of that dinner was certainly not supposed to be discussing work matters, yet, unsurprisingly, they gravitated to the topic.

Sharon found her successor's point of view on the current goings on at the LAPD rather interesting, too.

 _"She's just waiting for us to screw up," he muttered, stabbing his fork into a piece of chicken with a little more force than, judging by her look of reprimand thrown her husband's way, Patrice appreciated._

 _Andy nodded, taking a sip of his water. "She even mentioned you the other day," he told Sharon, who was sitting to his right._

 _"Me?" Sharon put a hand to her chest._

 _Provenza chuckled bitterly. "Ah, yes, apparently she had not expected me to follow in your footsteps quite this," he paused, trying to find the right word, but Andy smirked and found one for him._

 _"Diligently?"_

 _Provenza rolled his eyes, neither confirming nor denying Andy's claim. He went on, ignoring both Patrice and Sharon's soft laughter. "She complains about every single request I put in, but when Howard approves of them, and we end up solving the cases faster than any other division in the department, then," he waved his fork in the air, annoyed, "she likes us." He put some food in his mouth and muttered, "That two-faced-" He fell silent when the two women at the table raised their eyebrows in warning at him._

 _"As long as you follow regulation," Sharon shrugged, swirling the wine around in her glass, "those complaints will fall on deaf ears. You have nothing to worry about."_

 _"Oh," Provenza's tone was sarcastic, "but I do." He leaned forward in his chair. "See, if Deputy Chief Winnie Davis takes over, rumor, or," he frowned, "rather threat has it that Major Crimes is in for a nasty surprise."_

 _Sharon sighed at that. Andy had told her already about Davis wanting to shake up the divisions, and she did not like it any more than the squad did. With a touch of hope to the words, she asked, "What about Chief Howard and Commander Mason?"_

 _Andy scoffed. "I told you, Sharon," he shook his head at her, "Howard's out of the running. He's f-"_

 _"Former FBI," Sharon repeated with a bit of exasperation, "I know." She turned her attention to Provenza, sitting across from her. "I meant, how are they working out for you?"_

 _Provenza shrugged, reaching across the table for some bread. "Much better than Davis," he admitted. "But," he gave her an unimpressed look, "neither one wants the job."_

 _Sharon chuckled, her gaze on her plate now. "That I understand. If I was in their shoes, I'd prefer staying with you guys as well."_

 _That had Andy give her a surprised look. "You know? You would be pretty perfect for the job."_

 _She started laughing, but almost instantly stopped when she realized Andy was being serious. Provenza gave her a rather curious look, too. "I maybe would be," she would not disagree with that, "but keep in mind, even if I wanted the job," she shot both her former Lieutenants a pointed look, "which I do not, I am officially retired, and beyond the age limit for reinstatement."_

 _"Some rules are meant to be broken, you know," Andy muttered, going back to the food on his plate._

 _"Are you hearing this, Captain?" Sharon asked Provenza, an amused smile on her lips._

 _"Sorry, Captain," he still fell prey to the habit of calling her by her rank, and she had just stopped bothering to correct him or anybody else really, "but I'm with Flynn on this. If breaking a few rules meant getting you instead of Winnie Davis..." The shake of his head ended his sentence._

 _She smiled, appreciating his confidence in her. "Since I am not that coveted at the LAPD though," she said pointedly, because only that would get anyone to work around a rule as big as that one, "let's just hope Howard or Mason pull through then."_

 _Provenza and Andy grunted in unison._

 _Patrice took that as a chance to speak up. "Enough shop talk," she clapped her hands together, effectively putting an end to the topic, then eyed Sharon. "You're in New York more often now." When Sharon nodded, she went on. "Tell me, do you see your daughter more often now, too?"_

 _"Oh, yes!" They had left the poor woman completely out of the conversation so Sharon latched onto the new subject enthusiastically. "Seeing her more often has been absolutely wonderful..."_

That evening had been rather wonderful, too, and as she and Andy parted ways the next morning at the airport, she found it particularly difficult to say goodbye, knowing how much juggling around it would again take to make sure they had a few proper moments to themselves. It was in moments like those that she really longed to be back in Major Crimes. Not so much for the work, but in order to spend as much time with him as possible, even if that time was mostly shrouded in professionalism.

By Christmas time, their separate working places, combined with Andy's less than routine hours, had them barely seeing each other. Between the all-nighters Andy had to pull, and Sharon not being able to leave her LA NFL office on the rare moments when he wasn't working during the day, it was almost impossible to see each other even in passing by.

It was on the evening of the second day of Christmas that Andy finally proposed what she had been silently mulling over for weeks by then.

 _"We should move in together," he said from where he was stretched out on her bed, watching her as she packed up the final few things she would need for her flight the next day._

 _She looked up from the open bag on her side of the bed, his slightly startled expression telling her that this was not how he had intended to bring the topic up. Nonetheless, she smiled, and simply said, "We should."_

 _He proceeded to talk as if she had said nothing. "I mean," he was staring at the ceiling, "we waste so much time just on getting to each other's places, and then, when our schedules collide like these past couple of weeks, we barely see each other at all." He turned to his side. "This way I'd at least see you in bed more often as we-"_

 _"In bed?" Her question cut him off as she raised an eyebrow at him, suppressing a laugh over her obvious teasing._

 _He rolled his eyes at her. "Not like that. You know, when you're in town, but we're both busy, I'd like to at least be able to see you at the start or the end of our day." He tilted his head from side to side. "Well, at least if I'm not pulling crazy all night shifts or you're no-"_

 _Her laughter interrupted him. His rambling was nearly as endearing as it was when he awkwardly asked her out on their first date. "Andy," it took effort to speak more seriously, "I already agreed that we should."_

 _He frowned. "You did?" he asked, puzzled._

 _She closed her bag and climbed around onto the bed until she reached Andy's side. "I like the idea," she smiled brightly at him, and settled on her knees in front of him, "of at least bumping into you in our bed."_

 _"Our bed, huh?" he asked on a goofy smile as he lifted himself to a half-seating position._

 _She grinned. "Our bedroom. Our bathroom. Our liv-"_

 _His lips on hers put an abrupt stop to her list. It was only the loud thud of her bag toppling over the bed and onto the floor that had them pull apart, Andy now lying on top of her._

 _"I didn't zip it up," she said on a groan._

 _He laughed. "I'll help you repack later," he assured her before moving on to more pressing matters. "So, our place?"_

 _Her hands clasped his face. "Our place," she confirmed on a merry smile._

They discussed their place at length that night since there were a lot of things they would need to decide on. They had not really decided on much, but they had come to the mutual agreement that they would start looking for a new place, together. Sharon's condo was maybe big enough for him to just move in, but it would be awfully crowded if, like that Christmas, Ricky came for a visit, and even more crowded if both her children visited. Andy's place, although bigger, was simply too far away, and a shorter commute, Andy noted, was one of the reasons why he would like to move altogether anyway. When they thought about when and how to start house hunting, they could only start laughing. That would be a feat all on its own, and not one they could tackle in a single night.

She had no doubt about wanting to move in with him. However, when he brought up topics she had privately, fortunately, already made her peace with, she was even more certain that her decision was a good one. She was shocked to find out that moving in together was the particular something Andy had on his mind a few months earlier, before she ever started her job. What shocked her even more was that she had been so dense as to not pick up on it. Andy brushed it off, however, chalked it up to stress.

Not wanting to broach the subject just then with everything else that she had on her plate, he was correct in assuming that she would want to think about more than just the logistics of moving in together, such as Rusty, her faith or her past with Jack. He had her half in tears when he sought out absolute reassurance from her that any qualms those things might bring up were fully settled in her mind. When he was adamant about Rusty being part of their new place, talking about it as if it was nothing to include him so openly in his life, her heart melted a little, and she wondered how she had ever gotten so lucky at this stage in her life.

Lucky or not, the matter was more or less settled. Ricky and Emily were rather thrilled with the idea, but when they told Rusty about their plans, he had seemed a little hesitant, and both Sharon and Andy were a little worried about it. But it was fresh news, and knowing Rusty, he needed to first process the idea before coming fully on board with it. So they let him do exactly that. They doubted they could start properly house hunting until mid-January anyway.

Soon after the beginning of the New Year, Sharon and Andy found themselves at court. They were both taking the stand for an old case that finally reached trial. As they left the courtroom and walked down the hallway toward the elevators, they ran into Howard. Sharon was pleasantly surprised, for she had not really seen him since he had stepped into the role of Assistant Chief.

"Hello, Chief Howard," she told him cheerfully.

"Hi, Chief," Andy said.

He was carrying a stack of papers so she guessed he was there on business as well. He smiled and offered Andy a nod in greeting, but told Sharon, "Hello, Captain." At her amused smile, he quickly corrected himself, "Sharon."

That got her chuckling. "I'm past trying to correct people," she told him, brushing the matter off with the flick of a hand.

Andy shrugged. "Once a Captain, always Captain."

Howard nodded, effectively agreeing. "So how's the NFL been treating you?" He smirked and added, "Missing us over at the LAPD?"

Sharon looked at Andy on a relaxed smile. "Oh, I do miss you a little maybe," she admitted. "But the NFL's fun," Sharon added simply. "I travel a lot and it's been a bit of an adjustment," she eyed Andy again, who nodded, "but I'm really enjoying the work so far."

"Small price to pay for all the games you get to see?" Howard asked jokingly.

Andy quickly interjected. "Not when she misses New Year's Eve because of them," he complained.

Howard's eyebrows shot up. "You had to work for New Year's Eve?" he asked Sharon and gave Andy an incredulous look. "Even we got that night off."

Sharon shrugged. "Yes," she said a bit regretfully. "I was in charge of security for the Detroit Lion's game unfortunately, only got back yesterday."

"Ah," Howard let out sympathetically.

"The Packers won though, so that made the trip a bit more bearable," Sharon added, a bit more cheerfully.

Howard chuckled. "Catch any Giants games?" he asked conversationally.

Sharon and Andy exchanged a look, mentally going over her schedule. "There was one," Sharon finally said, her focus on Howard again, "at the end of November, I think." Andy nodded, agreeing, and she sighed as she added, a bit exasperatedly, "Spent five days in Cleveland that time."

"Nice." Howard sounded impressed. He looked around. "Anyway, I'm really glad I ran into you, but I should get goi-" He suddenly frowned and interrupting himself, asked, "Did you say 'end of November'?"

Sharon's eyebrows went up in surprise, but she nodded. "Yes, why?"

A startled look crossed Howard's features, but he quickly schooled them. "Oh, nothing probably," he said on an eye roll. "Anyway," he pointed a finger to the side, "I really should get going." He looked a little nervous, actually.

"Everything okay, Chief?" Andy asked, sounding confused, but a little worried as well.

"Yeah, yeah." Howard shrugged, already turning to head in the direction he indicated. "I hope we run into each other more often, Sharon," he told her in lieu of a goodbye.

"I do, too, Chief," she said politely, watching as he hurried down the hall.

"See you at work, Andy," Howard added a little more loudly so his voice would carry.

"See you," Andy mumbled, awkwardly waving a hand at Howard's back. "What was that all about?" he asked Sharon when Howard was out of sight.

Her gaze was still set on where the man had disappeared. "I have no idea," she admitted.

"Hopefully nothing serious," Andy said on a shrug. "Come on, let's go," he lead the way toward the elevators, "I have to be at work in 20 minutes."

"Yeah, hopefully," Sharon said, still wondering what all that was about. Almost absentmindedly, she followed Andy.

 **TBC**


	5. Chapter 5

Thank you for the lovely reviews on the last chapter. This one is short, probably the shortest I'll have in this story, but I hope you will enjoy it nonetheless.

Thanks, MajorCFan, for your continuous support and beta work. I seem to have fallen into a habit of teasing you guys about her current story, 'Reflections', so I'll do so this time as well, and give you a single word - 'meow'. ^_^

Now, let's see what's up with Howard, shall we?

* * *

 **TAKE THE PLUNGE - CHAPTER 5**

Howard was thoroughly distracted when he left Sharon and Andy. He knew the duo must have found his hasty retreat strange, but he couldn't dwell on it. He had come across an unexpected tidbit of information during their conversation, and he was eager to find out whether it would lead to progress regarding a matter he had been worried about for more than a month now. However, investigating it right away had not been an option, for he had been required to testify in court first.

He had given his testimony on autopilot, his mind too preoccupied with the what ifs of his impeding investigation. His recollection of what he had said on the stand was practically non-existent, but he took it as a good sign that the prosecutor had not complained about anything. He did not wait for the session to end, but left the courtroom the moment the lawyers were done asking questions, and the judge excused him.

He went straight to his office at the PAB, and barricaded himself inside of it for nearly two hours. He had no pressing cases, or any appointments, so he gave his secretary strict instructions to forward emergency calls only, and to take notes and messages regarding anything else.

When, more than a month ago, he came across the first report on the two incidents that captured his attention, he went through it at least half a dozen times, trying to almost will the name that connected them to vanish. He failed of course, and continued to worry about it privately, both dreading getting more reports, and hoping to get more of them just so he could put the matter to rest. His worry only increased, when in the first week of the new year, a second report found its way onto his desk. Immediately after, he set out on a search that he hoped would either completely alleviate his worries or justify them.

His run-in with Sharon Raydor unexpectedly helped him to narrow down his search. Barely half an hour into his little investigation, he concluded that his worries were indeed justified, even if he still lacked conclusive evidence.

He did not know for certain, but it looked like Sharon was in the area at the time at least two of his reported incidents occurred (he would like to call them crimes, but he had no proof that they were). He spent the rest of his isolated time trying to figure out how to learn where Sharon was during the third incident, or how to pinpoint the exact time frame of her stay in the area during the first two.

He knew plenty of illegal ways to do it, or ways that circumvented protocol, but when it came to this particular case, he would not risk taking any shortcuts even close to breaking the law. It didn't even matter that his current position at the LAPD made it even more important to abide by it. In this instance, he would not have cut any corners regardless.

That is what had led him to Major Crimes's new division head.

 _He walked into the murder room, a red folder tucked safely under an arm at his side. Ever since becoming interim Assistant Chief, the squad started throwing him slightly suspicious looks each time he encroached on their territory. They still worked as well together as they had been while he was just a Deputy Chief, so he figured it was an unavoidable consequence of his promotion, and didn't take it too close to heart. They rarely asked any questions though, and thankfully, this was not one of those rare times when they did, for they merely returned his polite greeting, and let him walk toward the former office of the woman who was the reason he was going there anyway._

The impromptu meeting had gone rather well, all things considered.

 _"What?" Provenza got to his feet, shocked. "Have you told the Captain about this?" he asked, his eyes set on the now open folder on his desk Howard had given him._

 _Any other time, Howard would have smiled or chuckled at Sharon's former division's habit of calling her by her retired rank. He, too, fell prey to that old habit. This time though, he sighed, and making his way to the blinds to pull them closed, said, "No, I haven't."_

 _"What?" Provenza's head snapped up and he shot Howard an incredulous look. "She needs to know about this. No matter how thin the lead," he said the next words slowly and deliberately, "she should know." His incredulous look extended to the rest of his office as he glanced around and added, "Chief, if this isn't a coincidence and-"_

 _Howard raised a hand to stop the older man from talking. "I understand your concerns, Captain, but that is not why I'm here."_

 _Provenza frowned and flopped back into his chair. "How can this," he waved a hand at the folder, "_ not _be why you're here?"_

 _Howard finally took a seat in front of Provenza's desk. He half-expected him to ask if he was out of his mind as well. When he didn't, he told him, "I have already decided to fill her in."_

 _"Then go tell her," Provenza muttered angrily._

 _"But," Howard went on, pointedly ignoring Provenza's interjection, "there's something I'm hoping you might help me with first."_

 _Provenza leaned forward, resting his elbows on top of his desk. "And what would that be?" he asked, no small amount of sarcasm in his tone of voice._

 _"Do you know Sharon's schedule?" Howard waved a hand through the air to elaborate. "When she's out of town on business?"_

 _He wasn't surprised that Provenza just frowned again and asked, "Why?"_

He filled Provenza in on the reports, his accidental meeting with Sharon at the courthouse, the suspicions it prompted, and his plan of action should her schedule confirm those suspicions. Howard had assumed correctly that Provenza knew her schedule, and he ultimately, and reluctantly, agreed to share it with him. Not before, of course demanding, that the moment Howard's little investigation was done, he told Sharon everything.

That had not been the first time Howard wondered when exactly Provenza had become so protective of his former boss, but he agreed without hesitation. Had she still been in Major Crimes he would have already filled her in, but then again, if his suspicious were confirmed, then he probably wouldn't have had anything to have to fill her in on in the first place. Either way, he made it clear to Provenza that he was in turn to keep quiet about the information until he knew more. Provenza had initially shot a worried look in the direction of Lieutenant Flynn's desk. He might be the man's formal boss now, but Howard doubted the two would ever consider each other anything less than partners, regardless of the ranks in between them. When Provenza had finally nodded, Howard knew he could hold him to his word, and returned to his office.

It took him less than five minutes to find out that he was right. All three reported incidents occurred while Sharon had been in the area. Howard did not believe in coincidence, not in their line of work, but as he looked over the reports again, he unfortunately had to admit that it still could be simple happenstance, no matter how loudly his gut was telling him that it was anything but. Especially since he could not come up with a motive.

He needed a few days to decide how to proceed. He was a little distracted, however, when Major Crimes managed to catch a case involving a critical missing. His new role forced Howard to work a little closer with them until they solved it, and it didn't help his nerves that Provenza took the opportunity to glare at him a little more than usual. Howard knew exactly why, but he had not been ready to fill Provenza or Sharon in just yet. There was one more thing he decided to look into first.

He had gone through the database, searching for any suspicious activity in states across the country at the time Sharon was in them. He wasn't exactly sure what he was hoping to find. One could call it a long shot, but in the end, he found something that he took as the final push to fill Sharon in on what had been happening over the past few months.

It was all still very thin though, with absolutely nothing to tie it to his suspect. Nothing but Howard's instincts, and possibly Sharon.

The FBI had an open case on it actually. He was itching to reach out to some of his contacts there, tell them about his suspicions, maybe get a few more details, but decided against it. At least until he got hold of Sharon.

He had found five missing person's reports, and initially, he would not have paid them much attention. They were young, brunette women in their late 20s who, after a night out, had gone missing without a trace. When he compared the time of the disappearances with Sharon's calendar, however, he found out that they coincided with her stay in the states they occurred in respectively. Still, he gave coincidence merit. The mere idea of Sharon having anything to do with anybody's disappearance was laughable, even if he was not implying she had a criminal connection to them. There was also the more practical fact working against that theory; he had no idea how anybody, least of all his suspect, could have kept track of Sharon without anyone noticing.

The urge to laugh, however, diminished somewhat when he discovered that three of those missing women disappeared within the same week his first three reported incidents occurred. Laughter vanished from his mind altogether, when, even though the incidents and disappearances seemed unrelated, they still took place while Sharon was in those states.

He still could not rule out coincidence, for there was no way to connect the missing persons to his suspect. But then the words 'accomplice' and 'partner' flashed across his mind, and with or without evidence, Howard was certain. It had to be _him_. For the life of him, he could not come up with a reason as to why the man would show up again. Yes, he was a psychopath. He was incredibly well organized and disciplined. However, he had at least once acted on something akin to instinct and irrationality, so maybe that was his motive. There was no shadow of a doubt in Howard's mind anymore though. He would need to find more evidence, put much more resources and effort into investigating this, but it simply had to be him. Whether it made sense for him to be back or not.

More importantly, he needed to tell Sharon and Provenza. He would have to fill in his wife as well.

He filled Provenza in first. The man had seemed eager to tell Andy since he couldn't tell Sharon right away, but Howard managed to talk him out of it until he could get Sharon to come into his office, so he could give her the whole picture himself.

A week later, Sharon finally knocked on Howard's office door. She had been out of town and busy with work in LA as well, and this was the soonest she could make it. She had been surprised when he asked her to meet him, especially at the PAB. She had certainly wanted to know what it was all about, but he had managed to convince her she would appreciate it more if they talked in person once she heard what he wanted to discuss, so she ultimately agreed to come at her earliest convenience.

"Come in," he said, seated at his desk.

Sharon opened the door, a curious expression on her face, and stepped inside. "Hello, Chief."

He waved a hand at the chairs in front of his desk. "Please, take a seat, Sharon."

That's when her gaze fell on Provenza and her expression turned suspicious, and if Howard had to guess, a bit concerned as well. However, she took the offered seat, smiled at her former subordinate in greeting, and finally went straight to the point. "What is this about?"

Howard knew better than to drag any of it out. He preferred just cutting to the chase himself actually, so he handed her a red folder. It was the same one he had shown Provenza a couple of weeks ago, only it was thicker this time. "It's all circumstantial," he said as she took and opened it slowly, "and we," he eyed Provenza, "have no concrete proof, but I thought it was time to fill you in on our suspicions."

Her eyes scanned the first page of the folder, and when she swallowed as she looked up from it, Howard felt nothing but sympathy for her. He could only imagine the kind of dread that must have washed over her when she realized what, or rather who this was about. He didn't like it either, but for reasons nowhere as tremendous as hers.

Her eyes flickering between him and Provenza, Sharon asked, "Phillip Stroh?"

 **TBC**


	6. Chapter 6

Oh, I loved your response to Stroh! However, you should know that we are quite a few chapters away from facing him. 😉

As always, major thanks go to MajorCFan for all her support and help on this. She's been a little busier than usual these past few days, but still managed to beta my chapters while working on her story 'Reflections'. She's just that amazing!

Let's brief Sharon on Stroh here, shall we? This chapter picks up immediately after the last one, and borrows a little from the canon of season 5.

* * *

 **TAKE THE PLUNGE - CHAPTER 6**

Seeing the all too familiar name in the folder wasn't what made Sharon's heart forget to beat for a moment. The name itself would forever be on her mind, even if only at the far back of it. It was reading about those deaths and the connections the deceased had to the name. That's when her heart decided to skip a beat right before picking up again at a rapid pace, mirroring the pounding in her head. She did not even need to feel the chill that ran down her spine to confirm how serious the situation was. If the size of the folder did not hint at the gravity of the reports in front of her, her current company most certainly did.

By the time she swallowed the lump at the back of her throat and uttered the name that had for so long haunted her adopted son, she had clamped down on the dread that washed over her, and let her still ingrained instincts of a trained police officer kick in instead. Those instincts practically screamed only two things at her. Protect and fight.

Provenza confirmed her question on a nod. "Yes, it's Stroh, Captain."

She offered him a feeble smile. "Sharon," she corrected. It had been weeks since she last wasted her breath on correcting any of her former colleagues, but she needed a little distraction right now, a moment longer to draw courage in order to look at the rest of the compiled information Howard presented her with.

A frown momentarily settled in Provenza's features before he rolled his eyes at her, and mumbled, "Right."

Briefly, her smile widened a fraction, and she finally lowered her eyes to her lap to turn the page in the folder. She focused on its content while giving an ear to what Howard started saying. "It could all just be coincidence, but three deaths having a connection to Stroh?" His sigh announced his next words. "Doesn't exactly _feel_ like a coincidence if you ask me."

Distractedly taking in the information that pointed out where she was at the time of those deaths, she mumbled, a hint of concern to her words, "No, it doesn't, Chief."

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Howard swivel in his chair, probably to face her better. "I would have told you sooner," he said, "but it wasn't until I ran into you a couple of weeks ago that I managed to even start looking for any of this."

Sharon lifted her eyes from the documents in front of her, and looked at Provenza over the top of her glasses. "I take it you gave Chief Howard my schedule?"

He gave her a curt nod. In defense, not that he needed one, for it was more an informative rather than an accusatory question, he eyed the folder and said, "That thing was a lot thinner until I did."

She just hummed in acknowledgement, her focus split as she returned her gaze to the file.

"I received the first report in December," Howard informed her.

Sharon looked up again and found him leaning forward a little, his elbows on the top of his desk now and his eyes set on her. "On the first two deaths?" she inquired.

"Yes," he said. "The first death happened while you were in Pittsburgh at the beginning-"

"Of October." She nodded, her eyes returning to the folder, as she continued reading off the report almost absentmindedly. "Stroh's 6th grade science teacher."

Provenza chipped in. "Found electrocuted."

"Then in late November," Howard went on, "you were at the Cleveland Browns' game," he waved a hand at her, "which is when-"

"Stroh's girlfriend drowned," Sharon finished for him, having just reached that part of the report.

"Exactly," Howard confirmed. "And then," Sharon heard him, rather than saw him shifting in his chair, "around New Year's Eve, I received the second report. You were in Detroit then."

She tore her gaze away from the folder to be met by Howard's knowing look. "Which _I_ told you about when Andy and I ran into you." Finally she understood what his odd behavior then had been all about.

"Right," he confirmed on a nod. "Which is what prompted me to dig a little deeper." He indicated at her folder with a wave of his hand, silently asking her to keep on reading, which she did. "Anyway, one of Stroh's former professors had been found, shot in an apparent suicide."

Provenza leaned forward in his chair. "Turn the page," he instructed her. "That's not the only thing that has us worried."

She gave him a slightly intrigued look, but did as told. "These are missing persons' reports," she said, surprised, but kept on scanning the pages.

"True, but I think I can c-" Howard started.

"I'm sorry," she held up a hand to interrupt and looked at him, a slight frown between her brow. "These women are not Stroh's type."

"It's not the type that made me suspicious, Sharon," Howard told her pointedly.

Taking his hint, she returned to the folder, her eyes widening the further along the lines she got.

Provenza offered her a quick rundown of the facts, even though it wasn't really necessary. She was seeing it all there in her lap. "They all went missing around the time you were in the area."

"And three of them," Howard took it from there, "went missing within a couple of days of those first three deaths."

Provenza was nodding. "While _you_ ," he gave her a somewhat worried look as he clarified Howard's words, "were still there."

She was on the fourth page by the time she was ready to look up again. Another chill went down her spine as she quickly jumped to the conclusion she didn't even know had prompted Howard to make this particular connection. "You're thinking 'accomplice'." It wasn't a question.

Howard tilted his head to the side. "It wouldn't be the first time he had one."

"Nor would it be the first time his victims went missing," Provenza added.

Howard took a breath, leaning back in his chair. "Or maybe," he was shaking his head, clearly hating to admit to the possibility, "we are just making connections that aren't there."

Sharon shook her own head. "I'd rather we make these connections and be wrong about them, Chief, than not make them at all." She failed at keeping the emotion out of her voice as she added, "Especially if my son's safety," she couldn't bring herself to say 'life', "could be at stake."

Provenza obviously agreed with her, for he said, "Not to mention that nobody but you," he eyed Howard, but quickly focused on Sharon, "or you and the squad, would even make these connections to look into them in the first place."

Howard nodded in a way that said he couldn't exactly disagree with that. "Probably," he said.

Sharon took a deep breath, trying to process all of the information. If their assumptions were correct and none of this was coincidence, those missing persons' cases were murders, not just disappearances. "Why though?" she asked on a shrug.

Provenza's response was sarcastic, but it rang rather true. "Because Stroh's a sick son of a bitch."

It elicited a small, mirthless chuckle out of both Howard and Sharon. That wasn't what Sharon was asking, however. She guessed that Stroh might be unable to resist the urge to rape and kill. She could even understand that, for the sake of self-preservation, he would be willing to indulge in a different type just so that the authorities weren't tipped off by his resurfacing MO. "I know he's a psychopath," she said pointedly, "but what would prompt his return to the country?" They had gotten various reports for over two years now. Sightings of him in various places all over the world, but not a single one had been on American soil.

Howard shrugged. "Settling old scores?" he tried.

Sharon nodded. "He _can_ hold a grudge," she agreed on that, "but do you really think," she was aiming the question at both of her former colleagues, "he would risk getting caught for petty revenge?" She found the page in the folder describing the first three deaths, and reading off it, added, "Two teachers and an ex-girlfriend?" She looked at Howard again. "What could they have possibly done to Stroh that he would go after them after all these years?"

Howard sighed. "I don't know, Sharon." He shook his head. "But _that_ connection," he pointed a hand at the folder where the pictures of those victims (if that's what they were) were displayed, "is certainly _not_ made up." His features softened as concern seeped into them. "And that alone is enough to worry me."

Provenza spoke up. "We know those missing women have no overt connection to Stroh, but-"

"It _is_ hard to believe," she was nodding more to herself than them, "that the timing was just a strange happenstance."

Provenza waved a hand through the air, and with a loud smack, flopped it down on his thigh. "Exactly."

"I don't like it either way, Captain," Howard said, and this time Sharon ignored the rank she was addressed by. "I've been putting it off until I talked to you, but," the way he eyed Provenza made Sharon think the two had discussed this, "I plan on getting in touch with the FBI regarding those missings." He shrugged. "Tell them what we suspect. I still have some pull there, they'll check it out as a favor to me whether it's really a new angle to explore or not."

"But," Provenza lifted a finger and pointed it at her, "since so far, most of this," his look at her was pointed, too, "has been off the record, we'll need your official assistance on this."

Sharon nodded, knowing precisely what kind of help they needed. "I will give you," she looked at Howard, "and the FBI full access to my itinerary and my schedule while I was in or out of town," she told them before they needed to ask. "If my connection to all this isn't just a coincidence," Provenza's unimpressed look told her how little he believed that to be the case, "Stroh's tracking my movements somehow." She sounded less concerned by that than she felt.

Howard nodded. "Which brings me to another matter."

Sharon shook her head immediately, guessing correctly what that matter was. "I do not need protection," she said resolutely. Besides, how would they protect her considering her current job? It was possible in theory, but she had no intentions of putting her life on hold, especially if they had no concrete evidence that this indeed was Phillip Stroh's doing. "There is also not enough evidence to warrant any kind of protection," she gave Howard a strict look, "no matter who the Assistant Chief is at the moment."

Howard and Provenza exchanged another look. They must have discussed that as well. Provenza finally, said, resigned, "We figured you'd say that."

She smiled a little. "But?" She had a feeling a 'but' was coming.

Provenza shrugged. "What about Rusty?" he asked on a heavy sigh.

A palpable weight settled heavily in her chest. It pained her to have to bring up Rusty's past with him again. The idea of not telling him, pained her just as much. "Nothing," she said resolutely. "I will not worry him, not until I am absolutely sure there's something to worry about."

Provenza nodded. "And if the threat turns out to be just against you?" he asked, a rather knowing expression on his face.

Sharon gave him a bland look. "If Stroh is threatening me," she said, carefully weighing her words, "he is, by extension, threatening Rusty."

That had Provenza back down a little, and he just mumbled, "True."

"We will reconsider all of that once we know more then," Howard decided in a tone that announced the approaching end to their meeting.

Sharon agreed on a nod, then addressed Provenza again. "You will not fill the team in on this either?"

Provenza shook his head. "Technically, there is no case," he grumbled, loath to admit it. "Unless," he glanced at Howard, "the FBI finds actual proof that we are not imagining things, there's nothing Major Crimes can really do to help."

Howard quickly assured them both. "The moment I hear something, you will, too."

"You might want to talk to Flynn though," Provenza told Sharon, speaking in a slightly lower tone of voice, as if he was uncomfortable addressing the matter.

Sharon gave him a puzzled look. The thought of not telling Andy had not crossed her mind even once. Even if it did, there would be no way of keeping it from him anyway. He had been curious about this unexpected and rather formal meeting as it was, he would definitely ask questions, and she had no intentions of lying about them. Suddenly though, she smiled, amused as she realized why Provenza made his suggestion. "He saw you coming to this meeting as well, didn't he?" she asked Provenza knowingly.

Provenza rolled his eyes. " _Demanded_ to know what it was about."

While Sharon chuckled, suddenly also realizing how much she missed Andy and Provenza's antics, Howard checked his watch. "I think you can call it a day anyway," he was speaking to Provenza. "You have no active cases at the moment, right?"

"Right," Provenza confirmed on a nod. "Well, the _team_ can call it a day," he suddenly shot Sharon an irritated look, "but _I_ am stuck with paperwork up to my eyes."

Both Howard and Sharon laughed at him. "One of the many perks of being the boss," Sharon told him, smirking.

Provenza just gave them both an unimpressed glare, then stood up. "Since we seem to be done here," he told Howard, "I will indeed tell the team to call it a day," he sounded as if it pained him to say it, "and I'll send Flynn," he looked at Sharon, "your way then."

Sharon offered him a grateful nod as she closed the folder in her lap. "Thank you."

He just shrugged it off, then offered Howard a curt nod, and in goodbye, said, "Chief." Making his way out the office, he added, "See you around, Captain."

Sharon shot Howard who was clearly suppressing an eye roll, an amused look, and although she doubted Provenza would catch her words, said, "See you."

When they heard the door to his office close behind Provenza, Howard eyed the folder and said, "I have copies."

Smiling, Sharon stood up, and clutching the folder to her chest, said, "I will keep this one then."

Howard smiled, too, and got to his feet as well. He rounded his desk and lead the way to his door as Sharon followed. "I wish we had this meeting under different circumstances," he told her ruefully.

Sharon sighed. "Me, too." Reaching the door, Howard opened it for her, but she did not walk out immediately. Instead, she looked at him and said rather sadly, "I never believed the Stroh chapter of Rusty's life to be really over, but..." She ended the sentence on a shake of her head.

Howard recognized her unvoiced thought. "I hoped it was, too," he told her. While Sharon nodded in rueful agreement, he added, "But if he's really back, Sharon, we'll do our best to make sure it really is over this time."

He said it with resolute determination, and Sharon knew why. Stroh had left a mark on his personal life as well. "I know," she told him on a grateful smile. Finally stepping out of his office, she spotted Andy already waiting for her at the end of the hall, but before walking toward him, added, "Call me when you know more, Fritz."

"I will," Howard promised.

…

It had been months since she felt such longing to be in her Captain's shoes. It went against all of her instincts to leave the PAB after her meeting with Howard, and let him get the ball rolling instead of her. Dealing with potentially dangerous situations had always been easier when she had something to do, especially when she had the authority to do something. If she were still head of Major Crimes, she would not be headed home. She would be in her office, going over every single piece of information tenfold until she made absolutely sure that everything that could be done was being done. She did not doubt that Howard, or Provenza despite his alleged paperwork, were doing the same, but not being able to do so herself made her feel more useless and helpless than she liked to admit.

She was glad to be driving home alone. With Andy's random rollouts to crime scenes, it was smartest to take their respective cars and follow each other back to her condo. She knew she couldn't hide from him the fact that she was indeed worried which in turn worried him, but he did not push for information, and agreed to just head home when she promised to fill him in there.

The silent drive gave her the opportunity to fully process what she had just been told. She thought she was as collected as she could be while Howard and Provenza laid it all out for her, but in the solace of her car, she found herself just barely keeping her emotions at bay. Her head was spinning from all the what ifs that crossed her mind. Her only good what if scenario would be coincidence. Anything else would mean one thing; Rusty was in danger.

She was not prone to panic. Nor was she an anxious person. Still, there was no denying that panic and anxiety were the two predominant feelings enveloping her that, topped with the helplessness she felt for being unable to give all the open questions an answer, made her incredibly angry as well.

Things were going so well. Rusty seemed happy and finally had the stability she had fought so hard on providing him with and making him believe that he could have and deserved. He did not yet inform her of his decision formally, but from the few noises he had made since they last discussed it, Sharon thought his mind was more or less set on attending law school.

Despite her recent change in profession, or maybe because of it, she, too, was as happy as she had been in years. Work was going well, and things in her personal life were better than she imagined they ever could be. Just a few days ago, Andy had put his house on the market, and they had decided he would move into her condo should it be sold before they found a new place. There was no question about it. They were fully invested in each other and in it for the long haul.

So of course, even the slightest possibility of Phillip Stroh of all people threatening their lives, their futures, and their happiness again, made her angry.

Her thoughts had exhausted her emotionally by the time they reached her condo. She was glad to know Rusty was spending the night with Gus, for she wasn't sure she could hide her current state of mind from him so soon. She walked toward the elevator with Andy in silence. As the doors closed in front of them before the elevator jolted upwards, what dawned on her was that she was also afraid. And the last time she had been this afraid was when Stroh first escaped.

Without really thinking about it, wordlessly, she wrapped her arms around Andy, knowing it would do little to settle her fears, but wanting the comfort anyway. If he was surprised, he didn't show it, but simply wrapped his own arms around her.

"What's going on, Sharon?" he asked concerned, for the first time since she deflected the question before they left the PAB.

"I'll show you the file when we get inside," she mumbled into his chest.

The huff of air that ruffled her hair let her know he was running out of patience, but he nodded, and simply said, "Okay."

…

Sharon was sitting on the couch next to Andy, waiting patiently for him to go over the folder Howard had given her. It surprised her that he had gone from the first to last page in complete silence, having only asked about Provenza's involvement in it. Only his occasional frowns and swallows were any indication of his rising temper and worry.

The question he shot her, however, threw her completely. "What have you decided?"

She blinked a few times, needing a second to process. Of course he'd ask that, she realized. He was a Lieutenant of Major Crimes after all, of course he knew that certain things would have been settled on during her meeting. "We tell Rusty if and when we have some actual proof," she told him. "There are more questions than answers right now. I will not worry him until I know he actually should worry. Same goes for the team."

Andy nodded, obviously agreeing with her. "And until then?" he asked.

"Fritz is reaching out to the FBI. He said he'd tell me the moment he had something," she said. "So until then," she added on a shrug, "we wait."

Andy sighed and snapped the folder shut. Sharon knew, however, his agitation was not directed at her. "I guessed as much," he muttered, flopping the file down on the coffee table. As he leaned back on the couch to face her, he said, "I know it's mostly just conjecture at this point, Sharon, but," his tone turned soft and quieter, "I don't like waiting." He shook his head once, and added angrily, "Not on Stroh."

Sharon scooted closer to him, and put her hands on top of his thigh, making sure he was listening to her and not trapped in his own head. "When Stroh first escaped, Rusty," she let out an involuntary sigh at his name, "was adamant about not allowing Stroh to leave him behind all locked up." Shrugging, she added, "He's lived with that decision ever since, we both have, whether I liked it or not." She gave Andy's thigh a gentle squeeze. "I don't like it now either, but if Phillip Stroh is really out to get me or Rusty, the best we can do until we have more evidence really _is_ nothing."

Andy frowned. "And if by the time we do have evidence, he already gets to you?" he countered. She didn't have time to even think of an answer, when Andy went on, his earlier calmness evaporating which each uttered word. "If this isn't just a coincidence, Stroh is stalking you! He is out there somewhere," he waved a hand at the balcony windows, "watching your every move, probably just looking for the right moment to act, and all you can think of doing is nothing?" he asked, incredulous.

Sharon moved back a little, frowning slightly. Having her hands tied like this was already hard enough to accept. She did not need Andy to deem her indifferent or reckless, too. "I am perfectly aware of the need to watch my back, Andy," she said coolly.

"I'm not saying you're not!" Andy said defensively. "I'm saying maybe you should have someone _help_ you watch your back," he added heatedly.

Sharon raised a single eyebrow. "And possibly tip off Stroh when he sees my protection detail, undercover or otherwise?"

Andy sighed, clearly admitting that she made a valid point. "Delegate more," he tried, pleading with her. "If he's after you, force him to come here."

"And lead him to Rusty?" she countered.

"I woul-," his voice cracked and he shook his head. "We would protect you both, you know that," he told her.

She took a breath, her emotions once again difficult to keep at bay. She had expected this to be a sore point. Andy probably felt as useless as she did in her position right now. He wanted to, but was unable to protect her personally if she was away on business. Trying to appeal to his rationality though, she said, "If Stroh has been in the country all these months, and I was his target, why hasn't he made a move yet?" She shrugged a single shoulder, and added, "He had ample opportunities."

"He made his move, Sharon!" Andy replied through gritted teeth. "Those women, those deaths," he raised his chin, indicating at the file on the table, "are his way of taunting you." Looking back at her, his expression darkened and the deep crease between his brow showed just how much he despised Stroh. "That coward is probably getting some sick satisfaction out of doing it all right under our collective noses, and there's not a goddamn thing we can do about it unless we find some proof."

He was probably right, but Sharon still couldn't understand why Stroh hadn't done anything yet. Outside of the LAPD and Los Angeles, she was an easier target than she had ever been before. "Still Andy, _what_ is he waiting for?"

It was probably the quiet, worried undertone of her question that had Andy's expression soften. He put a hand over hers that were still on top of his thigh, and said quietly, "Whatever he's waiting for, let's hope he waits until we find a way to catch him."

Sharon smiled. She was essentially hoping for the same thing. In a lousy attempt at being optimistic, she said, "It could all just be a coincidence."

Andy gave her a sarcastic look. In a tone that sounded like pessimistic optimism, he said, "It could be."

She merely nodded. Taking a deep breath and slowly letting go of it again, she essentially put the matter to rest for now. There was nothing they could do now anyway.

Andy sighed, interpreting her action correctly, and snaked an arm around her, gently pulling her into his embrace. He only spoke, when she settled into his side, resting her head on the inside of his shoulder, and draped an arm around him. "You okay?" he asked softly.

She tightened her hold on him. "I will be once I'm sure Rusty's safe."

He dropped a kiss into her hair. "I'll be okay once I'm sure you're _both_ safe," he mumbled into it.

She was suddenly overwhelmed by all of it. She felt tears pooling in her eyes and her throat painfully constricting as she tried to fight them. She hated feeling like this, when they did not even have any concrete evidence of Stroh's return. However, stripped off her badge, and unable to participate in the search for any evidence on her own outside of the LAPD, it was like one of her protective layers simply wasn't there anymore. That that protective layer was ultimately one of her ways of fighting back, too, only intensified her worry, and she was still loath to admit it, fear.

Andy quietly lifted the silence they fell into. "Just don't shut me out again."

She blinked her tears away, and looked up at him, confused. "Don't shut you out?" She frowned slightly and added, "Again?"

To her surprise, Andy smiled at her. He spoke gently, but his words still carried the slightest hint of accusation. "The last time Stroh loomed over your life like this, you refused help on all fronts, Sharon."

Her eyebrows lifted as realization dawned. She had practically shut everybody, him in particular, out for months when Stroh first escaped. She knew her worry for Rusty had consumed her back then. She had been going through her life on autopilot, her thoughts never far from Rusty and Phillip Stroh. Finally admitting that it was simply impossible to control the situation no matter how hard she tried, had been one of the most difficult things she had to do since Rusty had entered her life.

"Last time," she rolled her eyes at herself, "I was an idiot."

Andy chuckled, and she couldn't help but smile at her word choice, too. "You were a mom," he told her, pressing his lips briefly against hers. "Still are," he added. "Just keep in mind you're not the only one here who," there was a brief pause as he took a quick breath, and when he continued, his voice was laced with emotion, "has a stake in this."

Sharon captured his lips in a long, slow kiss, silently promising that she would. When she pulled back, and nestled into his side again, she said, "I love you, too, Andy."

 **TBC**


	7. Chapter 7

I'm glad you've enjoyed the previous chapter. This one is a bit of a filler really, but delves further into Sharon's (and not just her) worries, and sets up a thing or two that will be explored further down the line.

Thanks to MajorCFan for all her help on editing this. And to the guest who thought the two of us were an 'awesome combo', thanks for the kind words, we were grinning over your review like idiots longer than we care to admit. XD

* * *

 **TAKE THE PLUNGE - CHAPTER 7**

After Howard's meeting, thankfully Sharon did not need to attend any of the playoff games herself. What little she did have to do, she could handle out of LA, and otherwise she was able to use the weekend to properly wrap her head around what Howard and Provenza had told her. The Conference Championships would, however, require her presence in Atlanta the following weekend, but she was confident she would feel less distracted by the time she had to leave, and perhaps there would even be news on Stroh by then.

Unfortunately, by Friday, when her flight for Atlanta was scheduled, Howard had not gotten in touch with her, nor had Andy heard anything at work. So, before leaving, she decided to call him herself. He had regretfully informed her that there were indeed no new developments regarding Stroh, but that the FBI was still working their case, and should more missing person's reports be filed matching their current pattern, they would keep Sharon's schedule and Stroh in mind. More importantly, the moment they had any new leads, Howard had been assured the FBI would let him know, whether they were connected to Phillip Stroh or not.

Sharon wasn't exactly surprised that Howard had nothing useful to tell her. She knew from experience that these things sometimes simply took time, but the knowledge did not make her any less apprehensive or frustrated. She only hoped they would uncover some new leads before more women went missing.

With Stroh on her mind, parting with her youngest son that Friday afternoon before heading to the airport with Andy, had been exceptionally challenging. She might have told Rusty to stay safe a couple of times too many, but the young man had made no comment about it, apart from shooting Andy a slightly amused look, probably brushing it off to Sharon simply being in a somewhat more sentimental mood than usual.

Andy had been just as tense about the situation as she. The most evident indicator of his anxiousness and worry was the fact that, of the seven nights that followed her meeting with Howard, he had spent five at her place, missing two only because of work. She rather enjoyed his being around so much. Seeing him each morning before work or each evening before bed had already been a pattern they had easily fallen into during his stay with her after his dust up with the car. She discovered that falling back into it was even easier. Given the circumstances, she even took a bit of comfort in it.

However, she knew it was merely a side effect of Andy trying to gain at least some control over the situation. He was in a way protecting her and Rusty whether the need for protection was yet warranted or not. Knowing it was his way of dealing with everything, she indulged him, and even herself a little, in his protectiveness, even though it was a constant reminder of the potential danger both she and Rusty were in. That in turn only added to her general apprehensiveness.

Still, parting with Andy had been no less challenging than with Rusty.

 _"Here you go," he said, putting the handle of her carry-on luggage into her hand as they reached the security check, the point from which Andy would no longer be allowed to follow her. Patting her hand, he added, "Now, keep in mind that Provenza and I will keep an eye on Rusty, so just worry about your own safety, okay?" But for his pleading tone of voice, one might have assumed he was talking to a child._

 _It made Sharon smile. "I can only promise to worry about both myself and Rusty," she said on a shrug._

 _Andy shot her a bland look, not really surprised by her response. "I don't like not being able to watch your back myself," he muttered, angry at the situation, not at her._

 _"I know," she said on a sigh, absently running a hand down the front of his tie. "But it won't do us any good if we go crazy with worry before we even have confirmation that we_ should _worry."_

 _"Well, I don't believe in coincidences," he grumbled back, "so that's confirmation enough for me."_

 _His attitude had her chuckle. She knew, however, there was no reasoning with him, especially since she didn't exactly believe in coincidences either. Therefore, she changed the subject. If they stayed on this one, she would probably miss her flight._

 _"You know," she gently tugged on the end of his tie, "I liked having you around so much this past week."_

 _He briefly narrowed her eyes at her, her agenda not having gone unnoticed by him, but went along with it nonetheless. "Well," he said slowly, his eyes set on her hand, "you know, I wouldn't mind moving in with you right away." He looked up. "The realtor already said he expected my house to sell before we found a new one, so..." He ended his sentence on a shrug._

 _She quirked an eyebrow at him. She suspected as much, and truth be told, under any other circumstances she wouldn't have minded it either. She let go of his tie to give voice to her musings. "I mind," she said resolutely, "when it is only because you want to play my bodyguard."_

 _His return smile was more smug than guilty. "Well, Sharon, I hate to break it to you," he said, interrupting himself by giving her a quick kiss, "but I like being around you both in and out of my bodyguard capacity."_

 _She laughed despite herself, but managed to respond seriously, needing to make sure he understood where she was coming from. "I don't want to speed things up just because we're worried about Stroh." She let go of her luggage, and crossed her arms in an unconsciously defensive manner as she added, "If he's back, we'll have to make enough decisions based on that as it is. I will not have us moving in together be one of them as well, Andy."_

 _He gave her a soft, crooked smile and put his hands over her arms, gently prying them away from her hold on herself. "A scumbag like Stroh," he frowned at the name, but took a step closer to her as he put his hands on her hips, "will never affect my desire to move in with you," he told her sternly._

 _She smiled almost reluctantly as she put her arms around him. "So, you're telling me you would be this," she raised an eyebrow at him, "_ impatient _, even if it weren't for this mess?"_

 _He grinned. "Oh, I'd most definitely be this impatient," he confirmed. "Although," he grimaced slightly, and added, "I might have been less vocal about it."_

 _She shook her head at him in amusement, and held onto his sides as she propped herself up to kiss his grimace away. When she pulled back, she poked a finger into his chest, and teasingly ordered, "Then hurry up selling that house of yours."_

 _"Yes, Ma'am," he told her, chuckling before kissing her again._

 _"I really should get going," she said, when they pulled apart. She looked at the luggage next to her, and added sadly, "I will miss you more than I usually do."_

 _He smiled. "Me, too," he told her, pulling her into one last embrace._

 _She hummed a soft content sound, and relaxed into him for a moment. "I promise to be safe," she mumbled into his shoulder._

 _"I know you will," he said, pulling away._

 _With that, she finally took hold of her luggage again, and headed for the security check. She saw Andy lingering behind, watching her as she and her belongings were being scanned. When she was done, she gave him a small wave, and started walking down the hall out of sight, smiling at his little mock salute in return._

Sharon had fun in Atlanta. The usual hassle of running security before and after a game had not completely taken her mind off of Stroh, but at the same time, Stroh had not taken away from her enjoying watching the game. Usually, she would be too busy coordinating this or that during games to actually take in the fact that she was attending them in person. This time however, she knew she was part of history being made, in more ways than one. Firstly, this would be the last football game ever played in the Atlanta Dome, since the stadium was scheduled for demolition, and would be replaced by a brand new stadium by the start of next season. Secondly, the Falcons' win confirmed the team would head to the Super Bowl for only the second time in their 51 yearlong existence. She was even looking forward to attending the Super Bowl, and not just because the mere idea of attending it made her giddy with excitement.

Still, by the end of her trip, Sharon was also really looking forward to going home. She had expected to be slightly more on edge and on higher alert due to Stroh. What she had not expected, however, was for the situation, even while she enjoyed herself for the most part, to take such a mental toll on her. It would not have been quite as exhausting if all she had to worry about had been making sure things at work were running smoothly, or that Phillip Stroh was not lingering in the shadows. However, what drained her additionally were Rusty and Andy.

Rusty was at the back of her mind at all times, much like he had been when Stroh had first escaped, and she found herself losing sleep over it, her ever present worry not allowing her brain to shut down for more than a couple of hours at a time. Andy, on the other hand, drained her in another way. His checking in with her had not doubled, but tripled in comparison to all her previous business travels. She understood only too well his impulse to do so, she herself had been in touch with Rusty a bit more frequently than she had been until then, but once again, Andy was a painful reminder of why she was feeling so on edge in the first place, and she really could have done without it.

It didn't help that, on her fourth and final day of her stay in Atlanta, she had been summoned to New York to the NFL's main office by none other than the NFL commissioner himself. She was not scheduled for a trip to New York for another month, so she was rather surprised by the sudden request. Still, she did not worry much, but was definitely intrigued.

When she entered the conference room she found out that she had not been the only one summoned to the meeting. She was greeted by some of her other co-workers, most of them officials who, under her supervision, investigated internal incidents and personnel conduct. The commissioner himself wasted no time on pleasantries, but went straight to the point once he joined them.

A few weeks ago, Sharon had conducted an investigation into one of their player's conduct, and deemed the man innocent of any wrongdoing. However, her boss, who liked to operate under the premise 'guilty until proven innocent', had suspended the player, and benched him for three games before her investigation was concluded. Once it was, however, Sharon had followed protocol. She informed the commissioner of her findings before any of it reached the news, and suggested the player's suspension be lifted, seeing as she had proven it was unjustified. In her book, the matter was settled the second the report found its way onto the commissioner's desk, and the player was allowed back on the field. So to say she was surprised the subject would be brought up again all those weeks later, would have been a grave understatement.

It had turned out that her boss had only waited so long to address the matter, because he needed time to conduct a little investigation of his own to make sure Sharon had done everything by the book. Although, considering how ambushed in the meeting she had felt at that moment, Sharon had a feeling he had actually been looking for proof that she had not, rather than hoping that she had. So, having concluded his investigation, and with the Super Bowl fast approaching, he had deemed the meeting necessary on the off chance that an incident transpired at the country's most important sporting event of the year. Apparently, should there be an incident, he had not wanted the news to report once again, how the commissioner's Chief of Security went publicly against his decisions.

The accusation had caught Sharon so off guard, that momentarily she had been stumped for words. Not a single thing she had done since taking this job had been against protocol, and least of all against the commissioner's interests. What was more, she had taken incredible care of making sure that everything else that was under the public's scrutiny, was done in such a way that it could only better the company's image rather than hurt it. However, before she could find words to express herself, to her renewed surprise, she received support from the other attendees of the meeting.

They had pointed out that the commissioner ought to have invited the NFL's PR manager to the meeting, if the issue was how the incident's results were portrayed in the media. After all, Sharon almost never handled the press personally, in this case either, but merely provided the PR team with the most accurate of facts for their dealings with them. Otherwise, they also pointed out, she was merely doing her job.

Sharon herself elaborated on the fact that she had been under the impression that her job was to make sure incidents were properly investigated in order to make sure punishments were decided on accordingly. She wasn't quite sure what made her be so blunt, possibly the realization that the entire meeting had been the result of her boss's bruised ego, but she also went ahead and straight out asked him whether he expected her to actually conduct her inquiry, or to simply say so on paper in order to back up his decisions, warranted or not.

Her bluntness however, paid off, and after that, the meeting came to a quick close. It was decided she, her investigative team and the commissioner ought to coordinate their respective assumptions better. Sharon even got the commissioner to amend the premise under which he had operated so far to 'innocent until proven guilty'. He did so only very reluctantly, and Sharon doubted they would not clash over this again, but for the time being, she decided to consider it a small reprieve, if not even a victory.

Sharon also had to admit she rather enjoyed having a group of people come to her defense. While she did not necessarily need that, especially not in her professional life, in this instance, she took it as validation that she was indeed doing a good job so far. Nobody would have bothered to back her up if that wasn't the case.

The entire thing really resembled her situation when she first took over Major Crimes, only in this case it was her superior who had trouble accepting her way of handling matters, rather than her subordinates. She found it ironic that once again Phillip Stroh added to her troubles, too, not in quite the same way as five years ago, but in similar enough a way to make her wonder about things such as cosmic jokes and the grand scheme of things.

However, despite the added pressure and stress she again found herself under, she took comfort in the fact that things had resolved themselves rather well five years ago. They were bound to resolve themselves this time, too.

She was exhausted both physically and mentally by the time the plane touched down in Los Angeles. She had spent two hours in the meeting, three in traffic going to and from airports, at least another two inside airports, and altogether 8 more hours on two separate flights, all in less than a day. She never could sleep on planes though. So when Andy picked her up and she slumped into his car's passenger seat, she finally fell asleep almost instantly, waking up only at the feel of his hand on her shoulder as he came to a stop in her building's garage.

Andy had of course noticed that she was more tired than usual, but made no inquiries, guessing correctly that her busy schedule combined with Stroh, probably tapped her out. Instead, he simply joined her when she turned in early that night.

It was her first full night's sleep in four days, and when she woke up, she finally felt rested. The slightly anxious feeling in the pit of her stomach was still there, however. She doubted that would really ever disappear until they received some news on Stroh, but as she woke up that morning, trapped under the weight of Andy's arm wrapped safely around her, she felt more relaxed than she had in almost a week.

Her respite was short-lived, however. There still had not been any new leads on Stroh, and as the next weekend approached, when she was due to be in Orlando for the Pro Bowl, worry started rearing its ugly head more loudly once again.

Andy did not help matters either.

 _"I want to come with you tomorrow," he told her over dinner the evening before her trip._

 _She was mid-bite, but looked at him over the top of her glasses while she swallowed so she could respond. "You do know the Super Bowl is next weekend?"_

 _He shrugged. "I don't care what game is o-" He suddenly paused and gave her a narrow-eyed look. "What do you mean, 'the Super Bowl is next weekend'?" he asked instead, rather accusatory, too._

 _She sighed and lifted the napkin off her lap to stand up. "Well, I was thinking of surprising you tomorrow before I left," she told him on a shrug, and walked over to her desk in the living room._

 _"You didn't," he said in disbelief, craning his neck, and leaning his chair back trying to see her when she disappeared from view._

 _She merely hummed noncommittally, retrieving an envelope she had stored in her desk's drawer, and walked back toward the dining table. She smirked when she noted Andy's stunned look as his eyes zeroed in on the envelope._

 _Retaking her seat, she offered it to him. "Take a look," she instructed, smiling._

 _He dropped his cutlery, and did as told. "You got me Super Bowl tickets," he mumbled in astonishment as he freed the tickets of the envelope. In awe, he traced his fingers over the tickets' edge before finally looking up at her. "You got me Super Bowl tickets," he repeated more loudly, as if stating a fact this time._

 _She grinned, shrugging. "I remember a certain someone made me promise I'd get my hands on them."_

 _He shook his head at her in disbelief. "I was kidding!" he let out._

 _She chuckled. "I know," she agreed, "but I'm not." She pointed a finger between them. "You and I are going to the Super Bowl in a little over a week." She gave him a stern look, and added, "So clear your schedule, Lieutenant!"_

 _"Oh, come here," he bellowed, grabbing hold of her arm._

 _She barely let out, "Rusty's home!" when she found herself in his lap._

 _"I don't care," he said gruffly. "Because you, my dear," he went on more seriously, cupping her cheek to nudge her to lean forward, "are too good to be true." With that, he closed the remaining distance between them, and captured her lips between his._

 _She did not particularly appreciate being manhandled, but kissed him back with equal fervor. "You're welcome," she said softly once they pulled apart._

 _He shook his head again, still not quite believing it. As he dropped their tickets into her lap, he, however, asked, "We'll be watching the game together, right?" He frowned, and added, "Because these," he tapped his fingers over the tickets, "won't be nearly as fun if I'm sitting there all by my lonesome."_

 _Sharon laughed. "Oh, I'm sure you'd be just fine. However," she took the tickets and put them down on the table, "I will indeed keep you company the entire time." She tilted her head, and grimacing slightly added, "Barring any incidents or security breaches, of course."_

 _"Ah, geez, Sharon!" Andy let his head briefly fall back with a groan. "I do love you," he said before kissing her again._

 _Sharon chuckled at his boyish excitement. "I gathered as much," she said teasingly._

 _For a moment he just grinned at her before slowly sobering, and more seriously saying, "I didn't expect you to even think about Super Bowl tickets considering-"_

 _She interrupted. "I will not," she shifted sideways, and put her arms over his shoulders to give him a better look, "put either of our lives on hold just because Stroh," she lowered her voice slightly at the name, "_ might _be back in the country." She looked over the top of Andy's head in the direction of Rusty's room, and quietly added, "I can worry and hope that Fritz finally has some news for us, while still carrying on with my regular life."_

 _"You got them before Howard dropped that bombshell, didn't you?" Andy asked on a smirk._

 _On a high note, she laughed, covering her mouth with the palm of her hand. Guiltily, she said, "Yeah." She had gotten them around Christmas. Quickly sobering though, she added, "But I am not going through with this simply because I don't want them to go to waste. I meant what I just said."_

 _Andy nodded, and pecked her lips. "I know you did," he told her honestly, "but I still wanna join you tomorrow, too."_

 _She gave him a puzzled look. "Why?" she asked, hoping he would not confirm her suspicions._

 _Instead of answering her question, Andy said, "The team's not on call, and even if they do get rolled out, Provenza said they'd make do without me for a few days, so…" He shrugged._

 _It was answer enough for her though. "No," she said resolutely, abruptly getting off his lap, and turning to face him as she folded her arms across her chest. "Absolutely not," she added on a frown._

 _His exasperated sigh confirmed her suspicions further, but he went ahead, and also said, "Sharon, I was going crazy while you were in Atlanta! What if," he lowered his voice, remembering that Rusty was in his room, "something had happened, and I wasn't there to at least try to get the bastard?" He shook his head, and added sadly, "You can't blame me for wanting to at least deceive myself into thinking I'm doing something about this."_

 _She sighed, and unfolded her arms, her expression softening. "Oh, Andy," she flopped down on the chair next to him, "we're becoming paranoid." She alternated between pointing a hand at him and herself. "You staying here almost every night now, me losing sleep over this, your constant checking in with me while I'm away, my constant checking in with Rusty while I'm away." She shook her head, ending her list, then sighed again. "All that, and we don't even have confirmation that it's really him. See," she tapped the side of his bicep with the back of her hand, "this is why we can't just put life on hold. It isn't healthy, Andy."_

 _Andy sighed as well, slumping his shoulders a little. "I don't know how Rusty did it," he said suddenly._

 _"Did what?" Sharon asked, not following._

 _"Move on without closure," Andy explained on a shrug._

 _Sharon smiled sadly. "Same way I did." When Andy looked at her, puzzled, she explained further. "He was pretty sure he was out of the country for good."_

 _Andy chuckled bitterly. "So much for that theory," he muttered._

 _"I guess," she said, taking a moment to decide on what to say next. "Andy," she put a hand over his that had started tapping a nervous rhythm against his thigh, "we are both on edge already. I will not stop you from spending the nights here with me." She shrugged, and on a small smile, added, "I like that." He smiled, too. "I can handle the excessive worrying via texts and calls. But," she shook her head, "I draw the line at you following me out of town." She was nowhere close to moving on yet, but she felt like they needed to do something before they both lost their minds._

 _He turned his hand, palm upwards, and laced their fingers together, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "You're right," he admitted. Chuckling bitterly, he added, "I can't believe you're setting up rules for appropriate worrying."_

 _Sharon chuckled as well. "I can't believe you're agreeing to them without protest."_

 _"Well," Andy dragged the word out, and shrugged, "just because I'm agreeing to them doesn't mean I'll be able to follow them."_

 _She shook her head at him in amusement, knowing he would follow them, whether he liked it or not. "Let's just hope there's news soon, so that we don't have to keep those rules in place indefinitely."_

 _"Yeah," Andy said. "Not knowing for sure is killing me."_

 _"Not to mention not having enough cause to properly investigate," Sharon added, understanding precisely what Andy was saying._

 _"I still don't like it," Andy said rather petulantly, and Sharon knew immediately that he was back on the topic of her trip the following day._

 _She leaned in and gave him a soft kiss. "Well, neither do I, but I know I'd feel better with you here, keeping an eye on Rusty," her eyes flickered to the direction of her son's room, "rather than on me."_

 _Andy sighed, clearly finally letting go of the matter. Reaching for the Super Bowl tickets, he said, "At least I have an excuse to be your bodyguard_ next _weekend."_

 _Sharon laughed despite herself._

The next morning, she left for Orlando with a much heavier feeling than after leaving for Atlanta. Andy hadn't changed his mind, and had not insisted on accompanying her. The scowl he had on as he watched her walk away in search of her gate, however, made it glaringly obvious that he definitely did not like it.

The entire situation only added to what she was now certain really was paranoia. She went about work, barely even paying any attention to the game she was overseeing, as the treacherous question of _'What if something happened, and I didn't let him come?_ ' added to the heavy weight of her current worries.

Sleep evaded her again, but when she returned to LA, she finally managed to make up for some of it with Andy keeping her company again. She did not know what to make of that. It was irrational, but despite feeling slightly irritated at just how protective he could get, she also managed to find some semblance of calmness only around him. She knew it helped knowing Rusty was just down the hall, too. Of course, he spent a few night with Gus, but her worries simply weren't as intense when she was at least in the same city as he was.

Her heart did crack a little, however, when one evening she found out her son wasn't as oblivious to what was going on as she hoped he would be.

 _"No Andy?" he asked, flopping down next to her on the couch._

 _She had been looking over some NFL reports, and lifted her eyes only long enough to look at him over the rim of her glasses, before waving a hand through the air, and returning her focus to her files. "I kicked him out," she said matter-of-factly._

 _"You kicked him out?"_

 _Rusty's tone of disbelief had her look up at him again, this time, with no intention of returning to her reports. "Oh," she let out a soft laugh, "he and Captain Provenza had plans." More correctly, Andy had wanted to blow Provenza off, but she managed to talk him into leaving after dinner. She could fend for herself for a few hours._

 _"Oh." Rusty laughed, too, relaxing into the back of the couch a little. He rolled his head over the backrest of the couch to look at her. "He's been spending a lot more time here lately." Jokingly, he added, "You sure he didn't sell his house already?"_

 _Sharon smiled. "I'm sure," she told him on a nod. On a more contemplative note, she asked, "Do you mind?" He was no longer as wary of her and Andy's plans to move in together, as he had been initially. He had also offered no protest at the possibility of Andy moving into the condo before they ever found a house they all liked. However, since circumstances had given Rusty another taste of what living with Andy might look like, she took the opportunity to see how he felt about it now._

 _"Would it matter?" Rusty asked in answer._

 _She shook her head at him in amusement, he knew her well._ _Even though Rusty's input would be taken into consideration about whether or not she would take this step with Andy, now that her mind was made up, it would take a lot more than his awkward discomfort to change her mind._ _"Still," she said._

 _"Nah," he rolled his head again to look in front of himself. "I'm not as disgusted by him as I worried I'd be."_

 _Sharon laughed. "I'll make sure to tell him that." At the wide-eyed look Rusty shot her, she promptly dissolved into another fit of laughter._

 _"Funny," he mumbled sarcastically._

 _She grinned, raising an eyebrow at him as if to say, 'I know.'_

 _"May I ask you something?" he suddenly said._

 _Curious, she simply said, "Always."_

 _He straightened on his spot, and shifted to face her better. "Is something wrong?" he asked almost hesitantly._

 _The question felt like a punch in the gut. She wanted to tell him everything was alright, but she had promised him once never to lie to him, to always keep him in the loop of things. It's why she honestly said, "I don't know yet."_

 _Rusty frowned. "It's just, you seem tired, mom. And then," he waved a hand behind him, "Andy's spending most of his nights here even though you both claim he hasn't moved in yet." He shrugged. "You also get all," he paused, then waved a hand lamely at her, "like that."_

 _Oh, she had no idea when he had become so attuned to her inner turmoil. Still, she chuckled. "_ Like that _?" she asked on a raised eyebrow._

 _Rusty shrugged. "I don't know. I say something, and then, there's like this split second when it seems like something suddenly flashes across your mind, but you don't say it." He shrugged again. "I don't know, but something's off, mom." Frowning, he went on before she could respond. "Is it work? Is it Andy?" His look turned alarmed. "It's not my mom, right? My other mom, I mean."_

 _"Oh, honey." She leaned over to pat his shoulder. "Everything's okay at work and with Andy," she assured him. "And I haven't seen or heard from your mother since the whole Gary issue."_

 _Rusty considered that for a moment. "But something_ is _wrong then?" he finally said._

 _Sharon sighed and leaned back again. "Like I said, Rusty, I don't know yet. But I promise you," she gave him a pointed look, "that the moment I know more, I will tell you."_

 _It wasn't the first time he had gotten such an answer from her. He gave her a slightly impatient look, clearly not liking the answer, and asked, "You're worried though?"_

 _There was no way of sugarcoating that, so she simply nodded and said, "Andy and I both are."_

 _Rusty gave her a long look, but ultimately let out a small huff of air, letting go of the matter. Partially at least, for he said, "I've been thinking about law school some more." Sharon perked up at that. "I don't want to dump that on you now, if something's going on," he added worriedly._

 _It was another punch in the gut. They hadn't even confirmed that Stroh was really back in their lives, and he had already started influencing them again. "Rusty," she said rather sternly, and it made his head snap up to look at her, "your future will never be something you'll be dumping on me." She gave him a soft smile. "It will always," she paused, and shrugged awkwardly, "well, almost always," Rusty chuckled, "trump anything else that's going on, alright?"_

 _Rusty shot her a bland look. "I hate it when you're so," he flailed a hand in front of his face without finishing the sentence._

 _Sharon smirked. "Right?" she offered._

 _He rolled his eyes, and said, "Not exactly what I was going for, but yeah, I guess."_

 _She chuckled, then shifted on the couch a little to get a better look at him. "So, what have you been thinking?"_

 _He took a breath, and said, "I think I'm going to law school."_

Yes, Rusty had made his decision. He still had to finish his current classes, he wanted to start an internship to add to his résumé, but he was set on applying for law school. Sharon offered to put in a word for him with DDA Hobbs, but he had vehemently refused, stating he was capable of meeting with her himself. She found his naiveness rather endearing. Sharon had no doubt that Rusty could land an internship on his abilities alone. However, the mere fact that he was her son would give him a slight edge over other candidates. Hobbs, or any other lawyers and judges who knew who Rusty was, would still base their ultimate decision on Rusty's capabilities, but they were also bound to be slightly more open to giving him an internship, knowing his mother's rather impressive reputation. Still, she understood his insistence. It was one of the many steps he would take on his road to complete independence. She would not take it away from him.

It tugged at her heart strings, however, that he had picked up on the fact that she was on edge. She couldn't recall whether she had been this rattled when Stroh first escaped. Rusty certainly had not taken notice back then. If she had been, however, was she better at hiding it then, or had her son become more observant in the meantime? He had come a long way since then, maybe he did become more observant.

She also wondered if part of her anxiety stemmed from the fact that she was no longer an officer of the law with the authority to investigate the case herself. Soon it would be three weeks without any news on Stroh. She had talked with Howard briefly since their last phone conversation. He only confirmed that there was still nothing new, but he did also tell her that he had been quietly looking into Stroh's more personal past. He assured her he was very stealthy about it, wary of possibly tipping Stroh off that inquiries were being made. However, he had not made any discoveries, least of all uncovered more tragic deaths connected to him.

Sharon was dreading the idea of having to just move on with life like she had almost two years ago. But should the status quo continue, and they did not uncover any concrete evidence which would allow them to move in one direction or the other, she had a feeling she would not be given any other choice. The fact that her gut was still steadily telling her that, regardless of the evidence, or lack of it, she should keep her guard up only made matters worse.

It was becoming increasingly difficult to pretend that the question mark that was Phillip Stroh wasn't looming over her, her son and even Andy. She needed something, either confirmation that it was him or that it wasn't. It really didn't matter which one, as long as they found out _something_.

Her wish was unexpectedly granted on Friday morning, as she and Andy roamed the airport waiting for their flight for Houston where they would attend the Super Bowl on Sunday. They were sipping on coffee, waiting for boarding to commence, when both her and Andy's phone went off. Initially, they shared an amused look, and chuckled. It had been months since last their phones rang simultaneously. The looks quickly turned into worried frowns as they read their caller IDs.

"Provenza," Andy muttered, his finger hovering above the green button that answered the call.

Sharon swallowed. "Chief Howard," she said, about to answer the call as well.

In unison they stood up and walked in opposite directions, not wanting to talk over each other. On her way, Sharon finally picked up. "Yes, Chief Howard."

"Captain," he said, then immediately corrected himself, "I mean, Sharon."

Too worried to care about titles, she instantly cut to the chase. "Is it Stroh?" She turned around to see Andy frown as he talked to Provenza.

"Provenza told me you and Flynn are headed for the Super Bowl," Howard said, "but I think you might want to head over to the PAB. There's news, and I don't think it can wait till Monday. Can you get out of work?"

Sharon checked her wristwatch. It was on awful short notice, but yes, she had people who could make sure everything ran smoothly even without her there to personally oversee. The commissioner won't like it at all, she knew, but that her son's safety came first will simply be another thing he would have to get used to. She noted Andy hanging up, the slightly worried look on his face probably matching hers. "We'll be there in an hour, Chief."

As if reading her mind, Howard said, "Don't worry about Rusty, I put an undercover detail on him."

Sharon sighed in relief. "Thank you."

"It's nothing," Howard told her. "See you in an hour," he added, and disconnected the call.

 **TBC**


	8. Chapter 8

Thank you for the lovely reviews. It's good to hear this story is still holding your interest. Makes writing it all the more fun, too!

I'm also thanking my amazing beta, MajorCFan, for her continuous help and support on this.

Without further ado, here's...

* * *

 **TAKE THE PLUNGE - CHAPTER 8**

Once Sharon let her colleagues know she would not be making it to work that weekend (she would deal with her boss at a later time), she and Andy spent the drive to PAB in worried silence. Sharon knew Howard wasn't deliberately trying to be mysterious or tight-lipped, but the fact that he had told her little to nothing over the phone did not exactly help her nerves. Provenza though, had given Andy a little more information. Apparently, FBI Special Agent Morris had called earlier with news, and had just arrived to give them a more detailed run down. Provenza did not go into specifics, but had assured Andy that there was no immediate danger from Stroh, and that the undercover officer on Rusty was a temporary assignment, a precaution until more permanent decisions were made. That calmed Sharon's nerves somewhat, but she was still eager to be properly filled in on what was going on.

She texted Howard when she and Andy arrived at the PAB, and he told her they were waiting on them in the murder room.

They found the team seated behind their desks, each of them looking over an open folder. Provenza, Howard and Morris, however, stood in front of the murder board. On it, she recognized the picture of one of the missing women. There was another photo of what looked like a shipping container pinned to it, and the few words scribbled down told Sharon they had only just started laying the case out on the board. They clutched folders as well and talked quietly, but fell silent when they noted her and Andy's arrival.

"Hello, everybody," she said politely, offering a small, almost nervous smile to the round of nods she received in greeting.

"Sharon, Lieutenant," Howard greeted back, inviting them closer with the wave of his hand. "Sorry for ruining your Super Bowl," he told Sharon, and his eyes flickered toward Andy, who had come to a stop behind her, "but-"

Andy interrupted, a dark look on his face. "If it's Stroh, it doesn't matter."

Howard nodded. "First of all," he shifted his focus solely on Sharon, "we have not found Stroh, nor do we have conclusive proof that he has anything to do with this," he told her over a grave look.

Sharon nodded, but the words did little to comfort her. She took in the murder board. "Take it from the top then," she decided. She wanted to get the facts in chronological order. She gently ran her fingers alongside the photo of the woman. She was pretty, with brown eyes and long brown hair. Sharon knew she was 29, but based on the picture alone, she would have estimated her age at no more than 25. "This is Amelia Page, the woman gone missing in October, in Pittsburgh." She turned to Howard and Morris. "Has she been found?"

A mix of surprise and awe flashed across Morris's face, but probably concluding that Sharon not remembering the woman's name would have been even more surprising, he simply answered, "Yes, it is." He took a black marker and started writing the woman's name above her photo. "She was found in Pittsburgh, too." A regretful shadow crossed his features, and turning toward Sharon again, he capped the marker and added, "It's no longer a missing person's case. We're talking murder now."

Sharon had, unfortunately, expected as much. Sighing, she turned to the murder board again. "Was this," she indicated the photo of the container, "where she was found?"

Provenza answered this time. "Yes, it's a refrigerated storage unit," he said with no small amount of disgust to his words.

Howard retrieved a photo from his folder, and pinned it to the board to the right of Amelia's. "This is what she looked like when she was discovered," he told Sharon.

The photo showed the victim's body lying on a table, in what was unmistakably the inside of the unit. She was wrapped in black plastic. Only her pale face was partially uncovered. There was bruising on it, the purple smudge most prominent in the slight swelling on the woman's left cheekbone. Above her right closed eye, a dark crust of blood covered what looked like a deep cut, but what pained Sharon most to see was the fact that the woman had clearly been frozen. Frost covered her hair and eyebrows. Even her eyelashes seemed frozen. Had her mouth been visible, Sharon knew her lips would have been tinted blue. The plastic cover she was wrapped in showed signs of frost and ice as well.

Andy sighed and mumbled a sad, "Gee, there might be at least four more women out there like this."

Sharon understood his sentiment perfectly. A heavy, uncomfortable feeling settled in her chest as she realized that, but for a few differing circumstances, this could have just as easily been her own daughter's fate, or Andy's daughter's. Her heart went out to Amelia's parents, and to the parents of the other victims as well, who, unfortunately, were likely to eventually be confronted with similar, yet equally devastating, news. She shook her head ever so slightly in an attempt to chase away the traitorous thoughts, and turned her attention to the three men standing in front of her. "When was she found?" she asked them.

"Last Saturday," Morris answered.

"Last Saturday? That was almost a week ago!" Andy said incredulously, making everybody look at him in surprise, but he ignored them and continued to direct his sudden ire at Morris. "What the hell took you so long to tell us?" he added, sounding rather angry, and Sharon couldn't help but feel a little irritated herself.

Morris looked between Provenza and Howard for a split second before deciding to tell Sharon the answer to that question. "Let me first clarify that this isn't the FBI's case," he told her, his hand moving in a placating gesture, and she nodded. He chanced a glance at Andy who had in the meantime folded his arms and was frowning at him. "We were merely asked for help when the local authorities thought there was a pattern across state lines."

"Yeah, yeah, not your case, got it," Andy grumbled, waving a hand at Morris, urging him to hurry along.

"We were notified of the victim's identity on Monday, and it wasn't until this morning that the autopsy was concluded," Morris said.

Mike interjected before Morris could go on, addressing Andy. "They couldn't just heat up the body and do the autopsy right away." He shrugged. "You need to let it thaw naturally, or else you risk losing valuable evidence. You see," Mike shifted in his seat, straightening in it a little as he went on, "if you defrost the body too fast, the internal organs wouldn't-"

"Tao!" Provenza interrupted, almost on a groan, causing the Lieutenant to promptly close his mouth and Julio to snicker quietly, wary of facing Provenza's wrath himself.

Andy shot Mike a bland look. "Yes, Tao, I know," he said, pointedly repeating Provenza's exclamation. "This isn't the first frozen corpse I've come across," he added, irritated.

When Mike shrugged apologetically, Sharon suppressed both a smile and an eye roll. Simultaneously, she felt a little amused by the all too familiar occurrence and ever so slightly annoyed by it, seeing as the briefing was supposedly about none other than Phillip Stroh. She addressed Morris again. "May I know why you did not at least tell us Amelia was found?" The slight accusatory undertone of her words revealed that, to a degree, she shared Andy's disdain.

Morris shifted on the spot, the tone not having gone unnoticed by him. "Because we hoped to have better news for you once we received the autopsy report."

Sharon lifted a single eyebrow. "Do you?"

Morris slumped his shoulders slightly. "I'm afraid not," he told her, the words lowering her eyebrow and making way for a somewhat disappointed frown.

Howard fished a sheet of paper out of his folder and offered it to Sharon. "There's definitely evidence of rape," he told her, as she started scanning the paper with Andy looking at it as well from over her shoulder. "Of _multiple_ sexual assaults," he clarified, already busy pinning another photo to the board, this time showing the victim's face and covered upper torso, as she laid on a slab in the morgue.

"No DNA," Sharon said. Even though the fact did not exactly surprise her, for Stroh was more than careful about not leaving his DNA behind on his victims, it did disappoint her.

"At all. No fingerprints either," Morris added bitterly. "She was clearly abused, but as you can see," he waved a hand at her paper, "cause of death was asphyxiation by strangulation."

Sharon's head snapped up. Not bothering to search for the information in the sheet in her hands, she asked, "Using a chain?" That would be the first concrete M.O. connection to Stroh.

Morris shook his head. "Using rope."

Andy took a step to his right to face Sharon sideways, and told her, "Same mode, different means." He tilted his head a little when she looked at him. "That doesn't mean it's not him."

Sharon shook her head slightly, appreciating his effort at comfort, but not exactly feeling comforted. "It also doesn't mean it _is_ him," she told him in response. Taking a breath, she sought out Provenza. "What else did you find?" Her gaze falling on the murder board again, she added, "Who, or rather how was she even discovered?"

"Yeah," Andy picked up on her train of thought, nodding, "somebody broke into the unit and found it by accident or?"

"Malfunction," Mike said simply.

Sharon turned to him. "Malfunction?" she repeated in askance.

"Yes," he confirmed. "The company that rents these units gets an automatic alert in case of malfunction, and," he shrugged, "they got one for this particular unit last Friday morning."

"They tried contacting the person who rented the unit," Amy added, "but turns out, the contact info was bogus."

Sharon nodded, understanding where they were going with this. "So the company opened the unit?" It wasn't really a question.

Howard nodded.

"Is that even legal?" Andy asked, more out of curiosity than for it being relevant to their case.

To everyone's surprise, Sharon answered. "The company's contracts usually list a number of instances in which they're allowed to enter units without the owner's presence or explicit permission." She looked at Mike over the top of her glasses. "I'm guessing in this instance malfunction made the list."

He nodded. "Yes, Captain."

She hummed in acknowledgment, then turned to Morris. "You said you didn't have better news." When he nodded, in what seemed like uncertainty, she went on. "I take it you do have some good news, then?"

Morris tilted his head from side to side. "Depends on what your definition of good news is, but it is definitely news you should be made aware of." He started leafing through his folder as he continued, "The PBP pulled up security footage from the day the unit was rented, and asked for our help trying to identify," he pulled a piece of paper from the folder, and pinned it to the board, "this man."

The photo looked like a screen grab of the security footage Morris mentioned. It was zoomed in on the face of a man standing in front of a counter, talking to a person, the company's employee, Sharon assumed, sitting on the opposite side of it. It was a black and white, slightly grainy shot, but the man seemed tall, clearly had short black hair, and sported an equally dark stubble. He also wore round, black-rimmed glasses, and if Sharon had to guess, the man was in his late 30s.

Before she needed to ask, Howard elaborated further. "The FBI got a hit on the guy's face this morning." He glanced at Morris, who nodded, and pulled another photo out of his folder to pin it to the board. It featured the same man, with a more trimmed haircut and without the stubble, only it was not a security footage shot, but the man's ID photo. "His name is James 'Jimmy'," he put up air quotations marks over the nickname, "Curtis."

While Morris scribbled down the man's name on the board, Provenza went on before Howard could. "He's been arrested for rape twice," he said, giving Sharon a very pointed look.

Two equally prominent feelings enveloped Sharon, as she took in Provenza's heavy hint. On the one hand she felt strange relief, some of her anxiety and apprehensiveness ebbing away at finally receiving aslightly more solid lead, even if it also meant confirming her fears. On the other hand, her fear itself only intensified. As the resulting dread washed over her, she instinctively squared her shoulders. Worry and disbelief turned her voice rather hollow as she said, "And he is one of Phillip Stroh's former clients."

Her words had not been a question, but it didn't stop Provenza from pointing a finger at her, and letting out a sarcastic, "Bingo!" while Howard fished out another all too familiar photography out of his folder and pinned it to the board before starting to write 'Phillip Stroh' below it.

Sharon felt Andy stiffen next to her, possibly in a similar reaction to hers. "Tell me you have this Jimmy guy in custody," he told Morris, the words sounding more like a demand than a plea.

He sighed, shaking his head. "That's why," he looked at Sharon somewhat apologetically, "I don't have better news." He returned his focus on Andy. "His face is out there," he said, waving a hand at the windows behind them, "but there are four more women that have gone missing, all in different states. He could be anywhere in the country."

Sharon's eyes widened momentarily as an idea crossed her mind. "He could be in Texas right now. That's where we," she waved a hand at Andy, "were supposed to be this weekend."

All three men standing in front of her nodded. "We've already alerted the local authorities to keep a more watchful eye out," Howard assured her.

Sharon nodded, her gaze returning to the photo of their frozen victim. "Alright," she suddenly said, and rather decisively, as she folded her arms across her chest. "What do we know about James Curtis?" she asked, turning abruptly to the squad. Provenza gave her a somewhat amused look, and she realized she had unintentionally slipped back into her old Captain's role. She grimaced slightly, and unfolding her arms, told him contritely, "Old habits."

Provenza just shrugged, then waved a hand at his team, who were sporting slightly amused expressions, prompting them to go ahead.

Julio raised a hand and started talking. "He's a Los Angeleno, Ma'am. 39." He read off his folder. "Only child of divorced parents who have both died five years ago." He glanced at Sharon. "He has no other living relatives."

"Attended MIT," Amy picked up where Julio left off, reading off her computer screen instead of her folder. "However," she looked at Sharon, "he got kicked out in his third year, so he never graduated. Instead," her focus shifted back to the computer, "he mostly worked in IT departments of smaller companies or stores." She looked at her former boss again. "11 years ago he was arrested on a sexual assault charge."

"Which is when he met Phillip Stroh," Sharon supplied for her.

"Exactly," Oderno, speaking up for the first time since she and Andy arrived, confirmed on a nod. "The case reached trial, but Stroh managed to get the case dismissed on a technicality. A year after the trial Jimmy was picked up on a second charge." Oderno frowned a little, and added somewhat disgustedly, "Stroh got those charges dropped within 48 hours."

"Son of a bitch!" Andy muttered under his breath. "So he's not a registered sex offender?" he asked, not really needing an answer since they all knew it took a conviction to put a person on that particular list.

Mike shook his head, and on a frown just said, "Courtesy of Phillip Stroh."

Andy scoffed in response.

Sharon didn't like it any more than them, but she returned to Amy. "Go on, please."

"Hasn't held down a job since," Amy said, scrolling down the info on her computer. "Last job listed here was 5 years ago in Portland, along with his last known address." She looked up from the screen. "He doesn't even have a vehicle registered to his name, Ma'am."

Sharon made an attempt to speak, but Provenza, anticipating her question said, "Local police already checked the address. According to the building manager's records, Jimmy here," he glared at their suspect's photo on the murder board, "was evicted 2 months into his stay there."

Sharon sighed and pursed her lips as she processed that. "MIT," she finally said, looking at Amy. "Why was he kicked out?"

Mike answered, making Sharon redirect her focus to him. "He was caught trying to hack into MIT's servers, looking for answer sheets."

Julio scoffed. "Who hacks into their school's network in order to cheat on a stupid test?" he asked the room.

Nobody offered a reply beyond an unimpressed look or shoulder shrug. Sharon herself shook her head over another fact. Mike's answer was another dead end. "So we still have nothing to really prove that this is Stroh, nor," she gave the photo of Amelia Page a sad look, "are there any real leads on finding the man who locked her up in that freezer." She turned to Amy again. "You said the contact information was false?" she questioned.

"Yes," Amy answered on a nod, "and the unit was paid for in cash."

Sharon raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "For how long?"

Provenza interjected before Amy could answer. "Does it matter?" He shrugged. "Renting the unit out for a few months would have been enough to turn the lead cold." On a frown, he added, "No pun intended."

Sharon had to admit his point was valid, but Andy rolled his eyes at him. "So what do we do now? Wait?" He shot Howard and Morris a glare, not necessarily angry with them, and added, "Again?"

"Actually," Howard sounded rather optimistic, "there's another reason why I wanted you," he quirked an eyebrow at Sharon, "to come here personally." He turned to Morris, and gave him a pointed look.

Morris took a second before nodding and addressing Sharon. "We would like to talk to everyone who had knowledge of your schedule."

Sharon jumped slightly when suddenly Andy took a few quick yet deliberate steps toward Morris, this time definitely angry with him. "Be very careful," he nearly hissed the words into his face, "with what you're insinuating here, Special Agent." Morris's title left him on a sarcastic sneer, and more loudly he added, "You think any of us here would lead Stroh to Sharon or Rusty?"

"Andy!" Sharon raised her voice slightly, and put a hand to his arm to get his attention. He turned and backed down, but judging by the scowl on his face, his anger did not dissipate in the least. Thinking a little more rationally than him, she addressed Morris, who looked rather startled by Andy's sudden outburst. "Is there a particular reason for your request?"

Morris swallowed, composing himself. "Well," he started, "we are working under the assumption that, if Jimmy's working with Stroh, they are clearly following your movements." He paused briefly, then gave Andy a wary look. "We are not accusing anyone here of anything, but," his focus returned to Sharon, "it wouldn't be the first time that information was leaked unintentionally."

That made not just Andy take pause, but the rest of the team and Sharon as well. That the assumption was more than valid, most of the squad knew from experience, but that wasn't what renewed her earlier dread. It was the idea that James Curtis, or anyone working with him, not necessarily Phillip Stroh, could have come close to not just Rusty, but to Ricky and Emily, too, without any of them having the faintest clue about it.

Howard clearly had an inkling as to where her thoughts had taken her, for rather gently he said, "We highly doubt _anyone_ got close to your kids, Captain." Sharon met his gaze, and he went on. "Agent Morris," he waved a hand at the man to his right, "actually hopes to check into something else with them."

"We have no conclusive evidence that Jimmy is still in the hacking business," Morris then said, "but-

"Oh," Tao suddenly interrupted, startling Agent Morris all over again, Sharon slightly as well, "you think Jimmy might have hacked the Captain or anybody else who had her schedule stored digitally."

Morris visibly relaxed. "Exactly:" He nodded his head profusely. "He was only ever caught hacking back at MIT, but 6-7 years ago, he was picked up by the Sacramento police, along with two other men who had served time for hacking, on some public disturbance charge." He shrugged at Sharon. "The charge had nothing to do with hacking, I know, but his buddies make us think we are not necessarily shooting in the dark here."

Both Sharon and Andy nodded in understanding. Looking at Sharon, Andy said, "Any of us could have been hacked then." His frown showed he was more than just a little bothered by that possibility.

Sharon felt the faintest trace of relief at the explanation. She even found herself hoping that Morris was on the right track. "What do you need from us?" she asked him.

"Well, since it might take awhile to get warrants," he said, "I was hoping you," he eyed Andy, but looked at Provenza, too, "would give us access to your electronic devices, phones, laptops, tablets."

Sharon threw Provenza a somewhat questioning look, but he just shrugged. "He asked me already, but I wanted to wait for you to decide."

She smiled a little, then looked at Morris again. "And my children's?" she asked, although it wasn't really a question.

He nodded. "We actually don't literally need your devices, just permission to access your accounts," he clarified.

Sharon nodded at him somewhat absentmindedly as she turned to Andy. She swallowed, and even though everybody could still hear her, quietly said, "I'll have to tell them then." She had hoped not to have to tell her children anything until they knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Stroh was back.

A crease formed between Andy's brow as he nodded in resignation. "Yeah, we do," he told her just as quietly.

A small, involuntary smile, quirked her lips momentarily upward as the pronoun 'we' registered in her mind. The two exchanged another nod, a silent agreement that they would figure out a plan of approach later, before she turned her attention back to Agent Morris. "Is there anything else we can do?"

"Well," he hesitated a little, but when Sharon raised an eyebrow at him, he straightened a bit and finally voiced his thought, "we'd like access to the NFL servers as well."

"Oh," she let out. The fact itself wasn't surprising, especially if there was merit to his theory, but now she understood his hesitation. The NFL would not appreciate the FBI knocking on their door with a warrant in their hands, although truthfully, she wasn't sure they had any real grounds to even ask for one. "I will get in touch with my boss," she finally said, knowing that would be a very challenging conversation. "I am sure," she added, sounding more confident than she felt, "once I fill him in on the situation, he will agree to grant you temporary access."

"We only hope to find out if you have been hacked," Morris quickly added, as if further selling the point to her. "And if you have, we are hoping to be able to trace it back to Jimmy, or really anything or anyone that could point us in his direction."

"Like to his physical address," Mike added knowingly.

Morris looked at him in slight surprise, but then nodded. "That would be the best case scenario."

"Well, until I speak to any of them, you can go ahead and look into us," Sharon said, looking between Andy and Provenza, who both agreed on a curt nod.

"Thank you," Morris said, bowing his head for a second.

Sharon turned to Buzz. "May I have a copy of," she eyed Howard's folder, "that?"

Buzz nodded, and immediately started clicking away on his computer, while Andy added, "One for me, too, please."

"Sure," Buzz said, and after one last click, got up from his desk and walked toward the printer that came to life, having started to print.

"Thank you, Buzz," Sharon said, offering him a grateful smile.

Buzz just nodded in response, but Provenza grabbed hold of his retirement jar and shook it in front of Andy pointedly, making the coins inside of it rattle loudly.

Sharon smirked when Andy rolled his eyes and fished a bill out of his pocket, making a show of stuffing it into the jar. He had more than once complained to her about the fact that Provenza had not given up on his additional retirement fund. His retirement reward had surely been replenished by now, they had certainly put enough money into it.

As Provenza smugly put the jar away again, she said seriously, more to herself than any of them, "That leaves us with one more point of concern then."

Howard and Provenza simultaneously said, "Rusty."

"Exactly," Sharon confirmed absentmindedly. They did not have enough evidence to warrant a proper protection detail on him, and Sharon was sure Howard was pushing the rules, if not even breaking them, with the current undercover tail on him. However, at this point, Sharon did not feel comfortable leaving Rusty out of her sight. The mere thought only tightened the already ever present knot in her gut. She looked at Howard. "Can we-"

"Captain Provenza," a booming female voice interrupted, startling all of them, not just the owner of the name, "what exactly is going on here?"

Their collective gazes fell on the voice's source only to reveal the form of a rather angry looking Deputy Chief Winnie Davis.

When none of them answered, but instead exchanged in equal measure, surprised, annoyed and worried looks, she went on. "And may I also know," she shot Sharon a glare, "why Major Crimes _and_ the FBI are briefing a _civilian_ on an active case?"

 **TBC**


	9. Chapter 9

Oh, your reactions to Winnie were wonderful! I love it how we all seem to hate that character.

Thanks again to the wonderful MajorCFan who is steadily by my side as I tackle writing this story.

I hope you won't mind that it will take a few words before we address Winnie again here. ;)

* * *

 **TAKE THE PLUNGE - CHAPTER 9**

Sharon knocked on his door and let herself in when she heard his, "Yeah?"

She found him propped against the headboard of his bed, his laptop atop his thighs. "Hey," she told him quietly, leaving the door open to lean against its frame.

"Hey," he replied, closing his laptop as he looked up at her. "You don't have to check up on me, Mom," he added.

She smiled. "Maybe, but I hope you don't mind that I wanted to."

He scoffed. "You can come in if you want."

She tilted her head to the side, considering the offer for a moment. "No," she finally said. "Just stopped by to say goodnight."

"Sure," he mumbled sarcastically. Shaking his head, he added, "You don't have to worry about me. If Agent Morris finds proof that it really is Stroh, I won't freak out or anything, okay?"

"I'm not worried you'll freak out, Rusty," she argued quietly.

"You _are_ worried though?" he asked, although his question resembled a conclusion.

"I'm uncomfortable," she said, shifting on her spot and shrugging, as if to underline her words.

"Because you know, but don't really know it's him?" Rusty tried knowingly.

She smiled again, somewhat bitterly this time, and nodded.

Rusty put the laptop down on the covers next to him, and turned to sit down at the edge of his bed. "Do you really think he'd come after me after all this time? I mean," he shrugged, "it's not like I matter to him anymore. I've given my testimony, haven't I? That judge," he stammered, waving a hand to the side as he searched for the words, "that judge Stroh killed, what was his name?"

"Shaeffer," Sharon supplied.

"Yeah, him." Rusty waved his hand at her now. "You have proof it was Stroh, right? He's headed to jail on that alone if he gets caught. It shouldn't matter to him what I know anymore." He was nodding to himself. "It shouldn't have mattered when he first escaped either, right?" He paused for a second, before taking a breath to ask, "What would he be getting out of going after me again? It's not like getting rid of me would make him any less of a criminal, or stop the police from looking for him."

Sharon sighed.

Before they left for the condo, she and Andy had talked about the recent developments with Ricky and Emily back in the murder room, wanting to give Morris a chance to talk to them right away, too. The two were concerned, naturally, and it took Sharon a while to calm them down and assure them that neither she nor Rusty were under any imminent threat at the moment. They had freaked out a little when she told them the FBI would like to talk to them, but when she explained that it was in order to possibly catch their suspect and to ascertain whether she and Rusty could be in danger later on, they agreed to whatever Sharon had said they needed to do. They were itching to do more, of course, but just like Sharon and Andy, they had to come to terms with the fact that, for the time being, they were again playing the waiting game.

Rusty, they had filled in a few hours ago at the condo. Provenza had offered to have Rusty's undercover detail pick him up and drive him over to the PAB to be briefed, but when they reported that he was at home, Sharon didn't take long to decide against it. He would have been alarmed enough once she told him what was going on, there was no need for a random police officer to usurp his day as well. However, she would need to call him if they didn't finish up at the PAB by the time their, now cancelled, flight was supposed to land in Houston, because Rusty would expect them to check in by then.

Officially, the only thing Major Crimes could do was fill in Agent Morris on absolutely everything they had collected on Stroh since they first crossed paths with him. Until Morris hopefully found something in his little inquiry into the people who had her schedule, there was little else the squad could do, especially with Davis breathing down their necks. That's how, thankfully, Sharon and Andy were able to arrive at the condo before Rusty expected to hear from them. Andy had the day off anyway, and Sharon trusted the rest of her former squad to do a thorough job of briefing Morris on Stroh without the two of them.

Rusty had been shocked to see them, even more shocked, of course, when they told him the news. It also didn't take him long to realize that Stroh had been what had felt so off a few days ago when he talked to Sharon. Otherwise, he had taken it remarkably well. He felt guilty and angry that he was, as he called it, 'being a problem' for her again. When she told him he would need to talk to Agent Morris the next day, and that he'd want to look into his electronic devices, Rusty had agreed without question. He was even resigned to being shadowed by a protective detail again, practically offering himself to suffer through it. However, Sharon had reluctantly admitted that, until they could prove that Stroh was back and posing a threat, even if Howard was ready to bend or break the rules, they did not have grounds on which to assign that detail on him right now. When, as an alternative, Sharon asked Rusty to keep someone on the team appraised of his whereabouts, and to keep his GPS on his phone on at all times, he had agreed to that instantly, too. He retreated to his room after their talk, and that did not surprise her. He needed a moment to process everything, and based on his reaction now, he finally seemed ready to say more on the topic.

She pushed off the doorframe and sat down next to him. "Phillip Stroh is a psychopath who can hold a grudge. I worry," she paused, needing a second to settle on the right words, "that is reason enough for him to seek you out, regardless of your witness status or what it would do to his status as a fugitive of the law."

Rusty nodded, his focus dropping to the floor. "What about you? It's you," he looked at her again, "this Jimmy guy seems to be tracking."

She shrugged. "I'm afraid Stroh might be carrying a grudge against me, too. After all," she leaned closer to him, a knowing, slightly proud smile on her lips, "I'm the reason you got to give your testimony."

Rusty didn't see cause for a smile in that, but only frowned and looked at the open door in front of him. "You really think this Jimmy guy and Stroh are working together?"

He had posed the question in such an uncharacteristically small voice that momentarily Sharon had to fight back the urge to just pull him into a hug in order to hold on to him as tightly as she could. He had learned not to worry about Stroh being on the run because he was certain the man wouldn't risk his life or freedom for petty revenge, not after all the trouble he went through to escape in the first place. Now, however, what little facts they had, cast uncertainty on that rationalization. Rusty wouldn't admit it, but that uncertainty finally triggered the fear he had so resolutely refused to feel when Stroh first escaped. Sharon would give anything in the world to take it away from him. Unable to do so though, she gave him an honest answer. "I don't believe in coincidences."

He turned to look at her again. "But you can't prove it's not a coincidence?"

She shook her head. "Not yet," she admitted. "But if Agent Morris is on the right track, we might." Before they left the PAB, he told her and Andy that he expected to know something by Monday, and she prayed that he would. "Catching Jimmy is our fastest way to prove if Stroh is involved, so that's what the FBI is focusing on now."

"And if you don't?" Rusty asked. "Find Jimmy, I mean?" he clarified.

"Then we keep on looking," she told him, shrugging a single shoulder. "For both Jimmy and that final piece of evidence," she added.

"But if it is Stroh," Rusty started, frowning as he mulled over his question, "what is he waiting for? He's been following you across states for months now. Why hasn't he come for us already?"

A proud smile crossed her lips. Her son had always known to ask the right questions, and of course he would ask the million dollar one now as well. "I wish I knew," she told him regretfully. "But," she turned sideways a little to face Rusty fully, "Stroh is incredibly patient, highly organized. If he is here, and he is tracking my movements, it is safe to assume he has something planned." When Rusty only nodded, she went on. "Which is why I need you to be careful. Don't be paranoid," she shook her head at him, "but if you find anything suspicious, Rusty, and I mean anything," she gave him a pointed look, "even if it's just a funny feeling, you tell somebody from the team, alright?"

"I know, Mom. I will, I promise," he told her, fervently nodding his head again.

"Alright then," she said, her tone of voice indicating the end of their conversation. She got to her feet and turned to him. "Need anything before I turn in?"

Rusty rolled his eyes at her and in response exasperatedly said, "Good night, Mom!"

She chuckled quietly, glad to see the news had not completely dampened his spirit, and went for the door. "Good night, Rusty."

"Mom?"

The word had her stop at the threshold and turn around again. "Yes?"

"I'm sorry," he told her.

He opened his mouth to say more, but the thick, sad voice in which he said the words, had Sharon lose her grip on her earlier protective urges, prompting him to close it again. In two quick steps she found herself crouching in front of him, wrapping her arms around him.

When he immediately returned her embrace, clearly seeking her comfort, she swallowed, realizing just how much all of this was weighing on him. "You have absolutely nothing to apologize for." She told him quietly, as she tightened her hold on him. "This is Stroh's doing, and his doing alone, is that clear?" Those last few words sounded almost like an order even as they left her on a rather hollow note.

When she felt him nodding against her shoulder, she pulled back to look at him. It pained her to see the haunted, worried expression on him. "And if it really is Stroh," she added, "we will not let him hurt you, you know that."

"I know," he said, managing a small smile, "but who will protect you?"

Sharon startled him when she suddenly let out a snort-laugh. "Apparently, I have my own personal bodyguard across the hall." She hooked a thumb behind her, and tilted her head in the same direction.

Rusty's eyes followed her highlighted path toward the bathroom in which Andy was getting ready for bed, and then he laughed, too. Rather seriously though, he told her, "I'm glad you do."

She straightened, then shrugged. "Me, too," she said in slight surprise. It was practically a given that Andy would be spending the night with her after the day they had, but until just then she hadn't even realized how glad she was for that.

Rusty smiled. "Good night, Mom. I love you."

She leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to his forehead. "I love you, too." With that she walked toward the door again. "Good night, Rusty," she told him before closing it behind her.

Andy stepped out of the bathroom just in time to see Sharon close the bedroom door and lean against it, a heavy sigh on her lips.

"He's a strong kid, Sharon," he told her, closing the bathroom door and walking toward her. "Stronger than most."

She tugged on her robe and tightened it around herself as she folded her arms. "I wish he didn't have to be," she said over a sad tilt of her head.

"He is though," Andy reiterated, having reached her. "Just like his mother," he added on a small smile.

It drew a flicker of a smile from her, and his own widened in response. "He told me not to worry," Sharon said, scoffing as she shook her head in disbelief. "That he was okay, and that I didn't have to check up on him," she added, adding an eye roll to her headshake.

"Well," Andy leaned a shoulder against the wall next to the door, "he's got a point. He can tuck himself in on his own, you know."

Sharon shot him a bland look, but even though she tried to draw her lips into a tight line, a smile lifted the corners of her mouth upwards anyway. "I needed to," she spoke quietly, almost defensively, "make sure he-"

"Was okay," Andy finished for her. "I know."

She pushed herself off the door, turning out the light, leaving the room illuminated only by the lamp that stood next to Andy's bedside. She took his hand, pulling him gently toward the bed. "He's not, you know?" she told him.

"Neither are you," Andy said, coming to a stop just short of her side of the bed and tugging on her hand to do the same.

She turned around to face him and lifted an eyebrow at him as if to disagree, but settled on merely humming noncommittally in response.

That was confirmation enough for Andy. He reached out for her other hand and pulled her into his embrace. Her form molded into his as she wrapped her arms tightly around him, resting her weight against him for a moment. "You are safe though," Andy mumbled into her hair.

She took a deep breath, and he felt her nod her head against the inside of his shoulder.

He pulled back and tilted his head to the bed when she looked up at him. "Come on, let me tuck _you_ into bed now."

She chuckled at his suggestion, but offered no protest when he stepped around her and lifted her side of the covers. She laughed some more when he then with a flourish, waved a hand at her, inviting her to climb into bed. She slipped off her robe and draped it neatly over the ottoman at the foot of the bed, before approaching Andy. "Thank you," she told him quietly, placing her hand gently against his chest as she propped herself up to give him a quick kiss before sliding under the covers.

"My pleasure," he told her on a grin. She only grinned in return and shook her head at him when he proceeded to make a spectacle out of tucking her in, by carefully tugging the ends of the covers underneath her. Once he smoothed the covers on top of her, satisfied that she was safe in her fluffy cocoon, instead of rounding the bed to join her on his side, he sat down next to her. He used his lower back to scoot her toward the middle of the bed to make room for himself.

"Are you going to read me a bedtime story, too?" she asked, suppressing a snort.

Andy smiled at her. In truth, he was only playing goofy in hopes of lifting her spirits. While they were both relieved that there had been at least some movement regarding Stroh, he knew that, unless Morris's hunch found them a concrete lead on Jimmy, or even Stroh himself, it was still the unknown that they feared at the moment. However, there was also something else he wanted to address.

First though, he answered her question. "I can if you want me to."

She shook her head at him again, but sobered considerably. He had left her hands on top of her covers, so she was able to reach out for him without difficulty. When her hand reached his that had found purchase on the edge of the bed, she gently tugged on his wrist, and asked, "What is it?"

He sighed and took her hand into his. "If Morris finds cause to hand us the Stroh case," he started, his thumb absentmindedly tracing a path over her fingertips, "do you think Howard will be able to fend Davis off?"

The idea of having to give somebody else their case put Andy further on edge. He felt helpless as it was, he wasn't sure he could handle it if Morris found something, and they weren't allowed to investigate themselves. Judging by the rest of the team's reactions when Davis dropped by that morning, he doubted they liked the idea any more than him.

 _"And may I also know," Davis shot Sharon a glare, "why Major Crimes and the FBI are briefing a civilian on an active case?"_

 _Sharon turned on the spot to fully face their visitor and crossed her arms almost defensively in the process, but it was Provenza who spoke._

 _"A retired police Captain," he waved a hand at Sharon, "is hardly a civilian," he said in instant irritation. "Besides," he added more calmly and almost smugly, as he dropped his hand to the side, "this is the Captain's case, of course I'll keep her in the loop."_

 _Chief Davis had followed his hand, and with narrowed eyes quickly scanned the board's content while Provenza talked. "Phillip Stroh," she said under her breath, but nobody missed the words, making Julio and Mike even exchange intrigued looks. She then folded her arms across her chest, in a gesture that, in contrast to Sharon's, was more imposing than defensive, and said more loudly, "This_ was _the Captain's case." Her focus returned to Provenza. "And as I recall," she gave Sharon a dismissive glance, "Phillip Stroh escaped under your leadership. Do you think it wise, Chief," she abruptly pinned Howard with a look, "to involve her again?"_

 _"Now, wait just a minute," Provenza interjected before either Sharon or Howard could respond, taking a step toward Davis. "None of that," he waved a hand to the side, "was the Captain's fault. Stroh was in the county's custody," he shook his head, "not ours when he escaped!"_

 _Sharon put a hand on Provenza's arm, interrupting him from adding more heated arguments to what would shape into an angry rant. She understood his frustration, even appreciated his protectiveness, but arguing over what was would not get them far with Davis._

 _Howard seemed to have come to the same conclusion, and made use of Sharon's intervention. "Chief Davis," he addressed the Deputy Chief calmly, "we have reason to believe the Captain and her son, Rusty Beck, are in danger."_

 _"What kind of danger?" Davis asked haughtily, aiming the question at Morris._

 _Sharon suppressed a smirk and exchanged a quick glance with Andy, who had a slightly smug look on his face. Clearly, Davis had only gotten wind of her and the FBI's presence, but the rest of the details still eluded her._

 _Morris shifted uncomfortably on the spot, looking briefly between Howard and Provenza. "Uh," he stammered only for a moment, "the FBI has been helping local law enforcement across the country to investigate a string of missing person's reports," he told Davis. "Our prime suspect," he tapped Jimmy's photo on the board with a finger, "has a connection to Phillip Stroh."_

 _Davis frowned at Sharon. "How does that put you in danger?"_

 _Sharon turned sideways to the murder board and indicated the victim's photo. "Because Amelia Page went missing in Pittsburgh, last October, while I was there on NFL business. The other missing women," Sharon lowered her hand and waved it in a clipped circular motion, "disappeared from their respective states of residence during my stay there as well."_

 _Even though that was only half the story, Davis paused for a second, unable to dismiss that piece of information quite as easily as she probably anticipated she would. If any of the squad thought the fight would leave her though, they were quickly proven wrong, for she addressed Howard and asked, "You call that proof?"_

 _The entire team stiffened on their spots, not believing that Davis could be quite so aloof about the situation. While she may not like their division, for reasons which will probably forever escape their_ _comprehension_ _, they expected her to show more interest in catching one of LAPD's most wanted fugitives._

 _Howard's look turned bland, but he, quite patiently said, "In addition to that, there have been three deaths last year," he tilted his head to the side and tapped the folder in his hand, "and all three victims have a clear connection to Stroh. Again, it all happened while Sharon was there."_

 _Again Davis paused momentarily, but then suddenly decisively said, "Somebody else should take lead on this then." She gave Howard a pointed look and added, "Even if this is still circumstantial at best."_

 _Sharon braced herself inwardly, expecting Andy to pounce at that suggestion, but to her and everybody else's surprise, it was Julio who was set off by it first._

 _"Somebody else?" he asked on an incredulous frown. "Nobody knows Phillip Stroh and this case better than us, Ma'am," he added, waving a hand at his team members, "we've been on this case for years now!"_

 _"And how's that been going for you, Detective Sanchez?" Davis asked condescendingly._

 _Julio's eyes widened briefly and he shot Provenza an incredulous look, before, resigned, he worked his frustration off by forcefully leaning back into his chair._

 _Oderno suddenly said, "I'd say great, considering only Chief Howard made the connection between the Captain and those missing person's cases." He spoke nonchalantly, as if he were discussing the current weather._

 _"Excuse me?" Davis readjusted her folded arms and turned to pin him with a challenging look._

 _Oderno shrugged, giving the rest of the squad a look as if to say, 'What? It's true.'_

 _It was Andy's turn to finally say something. "What Detective Oderno is trying to say," he made a placating gesture at Davis as he, slightly annoyed, eyed Oderno, "is that our division is more likely to recognize connections and patterns than others."_

 _"Not to mention the time that will go wasted on familiarizing another division with the case details," Mike added helpfully, and Sharon felt a little proud at how professionally the two were handling themselves._

 _"There is no case," Davis suddenly snapped, turning to face Mike. "Unless you can prove that Phillip Stroh," she waved a hand at his picture, "is back not just in the country," she held up a finger to make her next point, "but in Los Angeles, or you find a woman that's disappeared from_ here _, the only person involved in this investigation, in this room, right now," she turned to the only other person not a member of the LAPD, "is Agent Morris."_

 _It was Morris who disagreed before anyone else could even decide what to argue against first. "I apologize, Ma'am," he started, shaking his head slightly, "but offering you concrete proof of Stroh's return is irrelevant here." He looked briefly at Sharon, as if seeking reassurance that he wasn't crossing a line there. She only met his gaze in return, but it was enough to prompt him to quickly go on. "If there is even the slightest chance that he is involved in these missings," his hand gestured at the photo of their victim, "and there_ is _enough circumstantial evidence to have the FBI believe that he is," he nodded to himself, "then Captain Raydor's and this division's help on this would be greatly appreciated. Neither Captain Provenza nor Chief Howard are asking_ _for her to be present for this briefing," he waved a hand at the two men in question. "I am," he clarified._

 _When he finished, he gave Sharon another almost self-satisfied look, and her lips just fractionally quirked upward at him in appreciation. Considering that Davis had made a rather good point, she was glad that Morris was quick to make an even better counterpoint._

 _"Alright," Davis said dismissively as she turned toward Howard again. "Let's talk about liability then," she suggested. Nodding to herself, she started doing just that. "Major Crimes' second in command," she waved a hand at Andy, "investigating a suspect directly connected to his girlfriend and her son?" she asked, now pointing a hand at Sharon. Andy tensed and was about to say something but refrained when Sharon_ _surreptitiously_ _shook her head at him. He rolled his eyes at her, but kept quiet. "LAPD's Assistant Chief," Davis went on, now gesturing at Howard, "personally investigating a man who made an attempt on his wife's life?" Davis threw her hand out, indicating her obvious disbelief about the state of facts and added, "Do I really need to go on, Chief, or should I take this up with the Chief of Police himself?"_

 _"Liability?" Mike repeated incredulously, not giving Howard a chance to respond first. When not just Davis turned to look at him questioningly, but Sharon and the three men behind her as well, he went on, sounding equally incredulous. "When Stroh escaped, who do you think wanted to hunt him down the most?" He suddenly waved a hand at Sharon, effectively answering his own question. "And what did she do instead?" Again he answered his question. "She made sure we rescued that woman from Burning Man, and let SOB handle the manhunt for Stroh. Chief Davis," he suddenly lowered his voice that had gone up during his little outburst, and continued speaking more calmly, "if anyone understands liability, it's our Captain." There was a hint of a plea to his words._

 _Sharon's touched smile was short-lived because Davis smugly said, "Only she's not your Captain anymore, Lieutenant."_

 _"And what exactly is that supposed to mean?" Provenza asked her, having clearly felt attacked, seeing as he was Sharon's replacement._

 _Davis tilted her head to the side and gave Provenza a look that said, 'What do you think?'_

 _That seemed to drain what was left of Howard's patience, and he asked sarcastically, "Would you like to take over then, Deputy Chief Davis?"_

 _She had tried to keep out of it, since she really no longer had the authority to meddle, but fearing the situation might escalate, especially seeing the double meaning to his question, Sharon finally spoke up again. "Excuse me, Chief," she addressed Davis, "but," she held on to that thought by putting up a finger in front of herself for a second before turning to Buzz. He had been following the situation quietly as he fumbled around Provenza's printer and collected the printed papers into folders for her and Andy. "Are you done with those, Buzz?" When he nodded, she reached a hand out, and asked, "May I?"_

 _Buzz nodded and walked over to her, giving her one of the folders and making another step to hand the other one to Andy while he was at it._

 _Sharon extended the folder to Davis, who had been watching the interaction impatiently, but had thankfully not complained. "Would it help," she asked, careful not to sound condescending, "if we kept you appraised of our progress at all times?"_

 _Davis accepted the folder over a suspicious look. "I_ am _going to be appraised of your progress," she shot Provenza a look of warning, "at all times."_

 _Sharon turned sideways, noting Provenza had clearly suppressed an eye roll. "Can we get back to the case then?" he asked in annoyance._

 _Sharon wanted to roll her own eyes at his rudeness. Diplomacy really wasn't the man's strong suit, so she braced herself for another condescending remark on Davis's part. To her surprise, however, Davis merely nodded, then addressed Howard. "May I have a word with you," she paused only long enough to glance over the room, her expression holding quite a bit of contempt at the scene, "once you have finished here?"_

 _Howard narrowed his eyes at her, but said, "Yes," he looked between Provenza and Morris, "we're almost done."_

 _When Davis, satisfied with the response, walked out of the murder room, Provenza said sarcastically, "My condolences, Chief."_

"If Fritz listens to my advice," Sharon answered Andy's question as she gave his hand a light squeeze, "maybe."

Andy's eyebrows went up, and he shifted on the edge of the bed to give her a confused look. "What advice?" He was about to ask when, too, but then remembered Howard had asked Sharon for a quick word before leaving to talk to Davis again. He guessed that answered that particular question.

Sharon let go of his hand and pushed herself up to a half-seating position against the headboard. "I told him that, if Agent Morris finds cause to hand the case over to the LAPD," she folded her hands neatly in her lap, "he might want to consider giving Commander Mason the lead on it." At Andy's instant frown, she quickly added, "Officially."

"Huh," Andy let out at that, his frown receding. It was a clever suggestion actually, and it would certainly alleviate some of Davis's liability concerns. "He is a lot easier to work with than Davis," he said, nodding. "You think she'll go for it?"

Sharon suddenly smiled almost deviously. "Oh, it will piss her off," she said bluntly, making Andy chuckle, "but if the current Assistant Chief himself makes the request," Sharon's smile turned pleased, and she shrugged innocently, "she'll just have to deal with it."

Andy shook his head at her, amused. "You know," his voice thinned a little, making Sharon raise a suspicious eyebrow at him, "if you were in the race for Assistant Chief," he leaned in to give her a quick kiss, "Davis wouldn't know what hit her."

She laughed and reached a hand out to snake her fingers into his hair, not letting him pull back fully. "If I was in the race," she said rather pointedly, "I would be doing my best to help either Fritz or Mason get the job." She leaned toward him. "But I appreciate your vote of confidence," she added before giving him a more lingering kiss.

Andy smiled when she let go of him, but on a more serious note asked, "You think _Mason_ will go for it?"

Sharon hummed in the affirmative. "Being seen working well with Major Crimes can only help him in the race for Assistant Chief." While neither Howard nor Mason really wanted the job, in an attempt to prevent Davis from wreaking havoc all over the department with her ambitious plans of restructuring, they were both contending for it to the best of their abilities.

Andy narrowed his eyes at her, and sat up straight again, needing a second to think that over. "You are assuming the Pope isn't too keen on having the divisions reshuffled by Davis."

"I am assuming the Pope," Sharon repeated his wording over an upturned lip, "is keen on having an Assistant Chief who is a team player." She shrugged, and added, "You said yourself," she tapped his bicep with the back of her hand, "that Mason is easier to work with than Winnie Davis."

Andy frowned briefly before his eyebrows lifted in realization and he threw Sharon a smug smile. "And what better way to prove that you are than by working together with LAPD's most elite squad of detectives?"

Sharon smiled mischievously, and shrugged a single shoulder in response.

Andy grinned. She really could play the politics game well.

"Come," Sharon said, lightly patting his side of the bed.

"Yeah," he mumbled, taking to his feet. While he rounded the bed she scooted down, making herself comfortable on her side, facing him.

Once he joined her under the covers he turned to face her, too. "Did Rusty say anything about tomorrow?"

Tomorrow they would be making their trip to Houston after all. Aside from their slight delay in arriving, they would proceed with the weekend as originally planned, and wouldn't be returning until Monday. Although Sharon had told her co-workers she would not be coming into work for the Super Bowl, the decision had been reevaluated after getting the full scoop on Stroh. Sharon and Andy had talked it out not just between themselves, but with Provenza, Howard and Morris as well, and decided it best to follow the rest of Sharon's schedule for the rest of the weekend, even if today she had deviated from it. If Stroh and Jimmy were tracking her movements with the NFL, they did not want to risk raising any flags with them. It would also give her the opportunity to talk to her boss in person about giving the FBI access to their servers.

On the off chance that their two suspects had already grown suspicious, it was also decided that Rusty would have an unofficial protective detail until they returned. Julio actually volunteered for the job, and would be keeping an undercover eye on him. The last time Rusty had been in this situation, it hadn't gone over well with him, so Andy wasn't sure whether to be relieved or worried about the fact that this time Rusty had not complained or fought them on it.

"No," Sharon said on a heavy sigh.

"He's afraid, isn't he?" Andy said, only just then realizing that would be the only reason why Rusty would agree to protection without protest.

"He is," Sharon confirmed sadly.

Andy sighed. "We're all afraid," he admitted before rolling onto his back to turn the lamp off. Once the room fell dark, he blindly reached for Sharon. She snuggled into his side, draping an arm over him and letting him wrap his own around her.

She scoffed into his shoulder. "I'm more angry than afraid," she muttered.

He smiled to himself, even though he knew precisely what she meant. In truth, he was angry as well. Angry that the mere assumption that Stroh was back was enough to throw everything upside down. He wrapped his arm more securely around her and said, "Good, you'll work it off when we catch the bastard."

He grinned when she muffled her snort with his shoulder.

She then pressed a kiss into it before resting her cheek against it. "I'm really glad you're here," she told him, her voice sleepy, but still tinted with her earlier amusement. "Good night," she added.

He brushed his lips against her hair, smiling. He was just as glad to be there. "Night," he mumbled back.

...

Much to Andy's surprise, the Super Bowl provided him and Sharon with a reprieve he did not quite realize either one of them needed. Despite Friday's worrying news, for the most part, they had enjoyed a rather relaxing remainder of the weekend. While their concerns were not alleviated in the least, and while it might all just be chalked up to the usual high sporting events evoked, the weight with which they left for the trip felt noticeably lighter by the time they were back in LA.

They returned to the condo in the early afternoon on Monday, armed with lunch they had picked up on their way from the airport. Sharon insisted Julio join them and Rusty for the meal. It was the least she could do for his free security services, she had joked. Over lunch the two filled Julio and Rusty in on the highlights of their little sporting adventure.

Saturday had been a challenging day for Sharon. She had spent a good two hours stuck in a meeting with her boss, being called into it almost the instant she and Andy arrived in Houston. The commissioner had not been pleased that she had changed her plans that abruptly, on the Super Bowl weekend at that, no matter how good a reason she had for it. Having to talk him into allowing FBI access to their servers afterward, had only added to his agitation with her. If their assumptions were correct, Sharon posed a security risk, and that was something that had put him further on edge. It was that security risk, however, that Sharon then used to her advantage in her deliberations with him. She painted two very distinct pictures for him. One showed the commissioner distancing himself from his Chief of Security on account of these possible threats, the other showed him taking these threats seriously, and doing whatever was in his power to assist the ongoing investigation. On their own, the scenarios did not faze him much, but once Sharon had thrown the term 'bad press' and a couple of 'what if' scenarios into the mix, the decision to give FBI whatever they needed seemed fairly easy to make.

From then on, Sharon and Andy had been able to simply enjoy the fact that they were attending the Super Bowl, even if Sharon had spent much of the remaining time leading up to it working and coordinating things with her staff.

Andy couldn't stop grinning at the sight of Sharon excitedly listing off the numerous record breaking stats of the historical game. He had been just as excited as her to have witnessed them firsthand, but he found it even more thrilling that she could be positively giddy rehashing them, not just in front of her son, but in front of Julio no less.

Andy knew just how much their current situation had been weighing on her. He himself had not forgotten about it for a second while they were in Houston, and he had no doubt that neither had Sharon. However, she did not only worry about Rusty and Stroh. She worried about him, too, more than she did, or felt she needed to, while they worked together. The fact that, with Davis eager for the Assistant Chief's position, the entire division seemed to be in jeopardy, didn't help either.

He worried about her as well though. While her new profession wasn't nearly as dangerous as his, and their mutual worrying differed vastly in those terms, Andy was yet to fully adjust to the fact that he could no longer have her back in quite the same way he did at the LAPD, even if it had been months since she started the job. The question mark that was Phillip Stroh made that adjustment all the more difficult.

That is why he considered it a blessing to see her this uninhibited and seemingly worry-free, even if for only the duration of a single lunch. It was a short break he believed they both deserved.

Rusty, not being as into the sport as the rest of them, had not quite shared their enthusiasm, but had instead found them rather amusing, and poked fun at them as they retold the game's events. That, too, added to Andy's good mood. He was happy the kid seemed less brooding than when they left for Houston on Saturday.

Once Julio, ever so slightly jealous of the numerous autographs Andy had managed to acquire, left, reality slowly started closing in on them.

Morris had said he would call on Monday, whether he had any news or not. The fact that, as the evening fast approached, he had not done so finally burst their relaxed bubble. Fighting off the urge to call him and demand an update, they decided to heed the advice they had given Rusty; until forced to do otherwise, go about their days as if Stroh wasn't looming over them.

That is how Sharon and Andy found themselves going over house listings. Since deciding to move in together, they only had time to take a look at one house. After hearing about Stroh, the entire house hunting process came to an unintentional halt, but their initial contingency plan - to have Andy move into the condo should his current residence be sold before they settled on purchasing a new one - remained in place.

Andy's house had been getting a steady stream of bids for a week now. According to his realtor, his house was bound to be off the market before the end of the month. There was no realistic chance of finding a house that not just Sharon and Andy liked, but Rusty as well, in such a short time, but it had prompted them to devote some more time to at least combing through their possibilities.

By dinner time, they had compiled a short list of houses that looked appealing, and afterward, they intended to go over it with Rusty in hopes of further narrowing it down.

Their plans were derailed, however, before they could even call Rusty to eat, much less sit down at the table.

Sharon was in the middle of laying out plates for them, while Andy was busying himself with tossing together a salad, when his phone started buzzing on the counter next to him. They both momentarily froze before exchanging an instantly apprehensive look.

Glancing at his phone, Andy wasn't sure if he should be worried, relieved or annoyed. "It's Provenza," he told Sharon on a shrug. Wiping his hands quickly off a kitchen towel, he picked his phone up and finally answered the call. "I'm off till tomorrow, Provenza," he said by way of greeting, smirking at Sharon when it drew out a quiet laugh despite her worry.

His smirk was quickly replaced by a frown though, and he felt a hollow feeling settle in his gut when Provenza, foregoing a greeting as well, simply said, "The FBI just placed him in the country, Flynn. It _is_ Stroh."

 **TBC**


	10. Chapter 10

We're getting closer and closer to finding Stroh. Or at least to finding a way of finding Stroh. 😉

To MajorCFan, my perfect beta, happy birthday, you crotchety old lady! 😄

* * *

 **TAKE THE PLUNGE - CHAPTER 10**

Andy and Sharon headed to the PAB the moment Provenza hung up. Andy did not even bother asking for details. He merely said they were on their way and that was it. That Rusty would be coming with them wasn't discussed either. His mother just knocked on his bedroom door, informed him there was news that might concern him, and invited him, although it was more of an order than a request, to join them.

"Captain! Flynn!" Provenza said in greeting just as the two walked through the doors that led to the murder room. "Rusty," he added unsurprised, when he caught sight of the young man trailing behind them.

"Hi," Rusty let out, looking around slightly unnerved as they followed Provenza. He wasn't sure what to make of the older man's hurried movement. It only added to his apprehensiveness.

"You have actual proof that Stroh is back in the country?" Sharon asked, foregoing her usual niceties, which also did not help calm Rusty's nerves.

"We think so, yes," Provenza confirmed, waving his hand in front of him as they reached the murder room, ushering them further inside.

"We found where Jimmy lived," Howard said by way of greeting. He stood in front of the murder board, Agent Morris flanking his left side. The entire team was there, seated at their desks, including Julio whom Rusty had seen just a few hours ago, and who was supposed to have the rest of the day off. Just like Provenza, none of them were surprised to see him. Rusty guessed Andy and Sharon must have let them know he would be joining them.

A frown settled on Andy's face. "Lived?" he asked as all four of them came to a halt just short of the board.

The barked word had Morris shoot Andy a slightly startled look, but he was quick to answer, "According to his landlord and neighbors, he hasn't been home in months."

"Since mid-September to be precise," Howard added, nodding.

That put a frown on Sharon's face. "But it is still his home?" she asked, and Rusty gave her a puzzled look. He could care less about what was or wasn't Jimmy's home. He was itching to know what his place had to do with Stroh's whereabouts.

The rest of the room, however, seemed to understand what she was really asking, and it was Julio, raising a hand and turning in his chair to look at Sharon, who answered. "Landlord said the rent is paid through April, utilities included."

"Mhm," Sharon said absentmindedly as she swept her gaze over her former colleagues. "How did you," she addressed Morris, "not find this address sooner?"

There was not even a hint of an accusation to her words, but Rusty pinned the FBI agent with an accusatory look anyway. Even he knew that looking up a wanted man's address was one of the first things to be done, even if chances were the place was vacated. He was about to open his mouth to voice his displeasure with him, but on second thought, realizing there was probably a good explanation for it, quickly decided against it.

"It's under a false name," Morris answered, handing Sharon a folder. "We're still looking into the name to see if anything pops up, but," he shrugged, "so far nothing, just that address and a fake ID. It's uh," Morris frowned a little, "not exactly an upscale place," the way one of his eyebrows lifted suggested that was a grave understatement, "so the ID and the fact that Jimmy paid in cash, and lots of it, was enough for the landlord to rent the unit out to him."

Nodding, Sharon opened the offered folder and started scanning the first page in it, Andy looking over her shoulder to do the same. It gave Rusty a moment to ask a question of his own finally.

"How," he paused to swallow, not sure he really wanted to know the answer, "did you find it then?" He glanced at Sharon and Andy who both looked up at him when he spoke, and added, "Was it," he waved a hand between them, "one-"

"None of you were the leaks," Howard assured him quickly, shaking his head.

Rusty heaved a sigh of relief. "Then how?" he asked on a frown when Howard didn't elaborate.

"The NFL really needs to update its security," Mike said, turning everybody's attention to him. When Sharon raised an eyebrow at his words, it prompted him to clear his throat and quickly clarify. "Its IT security."

Fractionally, Sharon smiled, amused that she could fluster her former Lieutenant still, but then she lowered her eyes to the file in her hands again. "It says here that you," she glanced at Morris over the top of her glasses, "tracked down his IP address to," her eyes shifted to Rusty, her words clearly for his benefit, "a physical address." There was a slightly questioning note to her utterance.

"Uh, yes, Ma'am." Morris nodded. "It was fairly easy, actually," he added, somewhat smugly as he straightened a little on the spot. "As you know, all NFL employees have a username and password to access the inner network." When Sharon nodded, he went on. "So, the system keeps track of who accesses what and when."

Sharon's eyebrows lifted as she realized where he was going with this. "And it also keeps track of unauthorized access."

Mike spoke, nodding. "Which is why the security system should be updated. It keeps track of all entries, but does not raise any flags if they are unapproved."

"We found an alarming number of unregistered users gaining access to NFL's systems," Morris said. On an eye roll, he added, "Based on their searches though, we're guessing most of them were either serious betting fans or overeager journalists."

That made Andy frown again. He had given up on reading the file and was looking at his colleagues now. "So what tipped you off on Jimmy?"

His head whipped around to look at Sharon when it was she, nose still buried in the file, who answered. "Only one unknown user started periodically looking up my name soon after I was announced as the NFL's Chief of Security."

"Precisely," Morris said. "That first search," he pointed a finger at her folder, "is also the first IP address we looked up."

"And it led you to Spokane, Washington," Sharon said, referring to her file again.

"Yes," Howard confirmed, "and while we did not find Jimmy there, we found-"

"Stroh?" Rusty interjected hopefully.

Howard offered him a small, rather indulgent smile, but continued to address Sharon. "We found Jimmy's and," he turned to Rusty, "Stroh's fingerprints."

Rusty stiffened. He had not expected their proof of Stroh's return to be quite that definitive. His mind running a mile a minute though, prompted him to instantly start scrambling for a plausible explanation. "But you can't say how old those fingerprints are, right?" He shot Sharon and Andy an alarmed look. "I mean, for all we know, he might have been there a year or two or more ago, and Jimmy just-"

"Needs to get a better cleaning lady?" Provenza interrupted, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he tilted his head toward Rusty over an equally sarcastic stare.

Rusty just glared at him blandly, annoyed at himself rather than Provenza. He hated that, despite his best efforts, panic was now steadily rising in him, and what was worse, getting the better of him. Sharon pulled him out of his thoughts, however, by placing a hand gently on the side of his upper arm.

"This is good news, Rusty," she told him soothingly once he met her eye.

Rusty frowned. "Good news?" he repeated, not believing she, of all people, would say that.

"Yes," Sharon affirmed matter-of-factly. "We needed to know one way or another, and," she shrugged, letting go of his arm, "now we do."

He narrowed his eyes, suppressing his urge to roll them at her. Her innate ability to appear calm no matter the circumstances would forever be beyond him. But he had to agree that she was right. They needed to know something, and while he did not necessarily like what they now knew, the information was strangely relieving despite of it.

How she always knew what he thought was also beyond him, but clearly she deduced he had come to agree with her, because she went on to address Morris again. "Can we return to Jimmy's apartment?" she asked rhetorically. "What else did you find there?"

Both Morris and Howard sighed, but the latter replied. "We found a few fake credits cards, which is how we think he's been financing everything."

Even though Howard was about to say more, Andy interjected on a low growl, frowning. "Credit card fraud."

Howard nodded in confirmation, but Morris said, "We're looking into those, hoping to find a pattern or a trail that will lead us to him, or maybe we get a hit on one of them being used somewhere in the country, but-"

"If nobody was in the apartment for months," Andy interrupted, "and you're thinking credit card theft," he trailed off, shaking his head.

Mike voiced the unfinished thought for him, and thankfully at that, because Rusty had no idea what Andy was thinking. "It's more likely he's not using those anymore, but has stolen other ones."

Morris agreed on a regretful smile. Rusty could only sigh, growing more frustrated by the minute.

"They found no other documents, no computers, phones, nothing," Howard went on. "And Stroh?" he asked no one in particular. "They lifted just a single set of his fingerprints."

"Mhm," Sharon let out, and Rusty recognized that hum. He had heard it often, mostly when she thought there was more to something than it seemed.

Andy picked up on it, too, apparently, for he looked at her curiously and asked, "What are you thinking?"

"That," Sharon drawled the word slightly, "it's incredibly _lucky_ for us to discover his fingerprints," she said cryptically, and Rusty again found himself not understanding what was being said.

"A little luck never hurt anyone," Provenza mumbled on a shoulder shrug.

Andy looked between Provenza and Sharon, a crease forming on his brow. "You think it's planted?" he asked Sharon.

She shook her head. "I simply find it suspicious," she told him, before extending her focus to the rest of the room. "Someone as meticulous and careful as Stroh just leaves behind something as obvious as his fingerprints? And after all his trouble to remain undetected so far?" She shrugged, before answering her own questions. "It sounds too good to be true."

Rusty finally caught on to her rationale. "It wouldn't be his first mistake though," he said, somewhat pointedly looking at Howard. Stroh attacking his wife was maybe his only mistake, but a mistake nonetheless.

Howard nodded, and Sharon simply said, "That indeed _is_ true."

"What about these other," Andy decided to move on, his eyes flickering to the folder, "searches you found?"

Morris perked up at that. "Those other searches, we are hoping will help us catch Jimmy."

"How?" Andy asked, and judging by the curious looks the rest of the squad shot the FBI agent, Rusty guessed this was as far as they had been briefed before they joined them. Only Howard didn't look puzzled, he must have already received the full report.

"All subsequent searches connected to you have originated from internet cafés, none in LA," Morris took a step toward Sharon to point at something in her folder, "but if you look at the times and locations you will see-"

"That I was in the vicinity at the time of all of those searches," Sharon finished for him.

Rusty frowned. "But that means he clearly knew where you were then. Why would he keep looking you up?"

"My guess?" Morris asked on a shrug. "To make sure there weren't any unexpected scheduling changes."

Sharon nodded in silent agreement, but Provenza muttered, "Would be a shame to go through the trouble of kidnapping a woman, only for the Captain not to be there."

Rusty swallowed. Sharon and Andy had already told him they assumed the women that have gone missing were Stroh's way of taunting Sharon, making her feel in a way responsible for it. That he would be quite this meticulous in making sure Sharon was really there made that assumption even more disturbing.

Nobody else found Provenza's remark funny either. Sharon herself proceeded to ask, "Have you checked out these cafés?"

Morris nodded. "Not done yet, we've got our agents and local law enforcement dropping in, showing both Jimmy's and Stroh's photos around." His gaze dropped momentarily to the floor, and he regretfully added, "No hits so far."

"What about security footage?" Buzz asked hopefully.

The frown that settled on Morris's face, had Andy cut his answer short as, on an annoyed eye roll, he said, "Of course they'd pick a place with no cameras."

"So far," Howard pointed out. "Remember, we caught Jimmy on tape at that storage company."

"We are looking into surrounding security cameras, too," Morris added helpfully.

Andy just huffed, clearly not finding much comfort in that fact. Rusty didn't either. He guessed that could take forever.

Sharon, who had been quietly following this part of the exchange, finally spoke again. "Based on this," her eyes were apparently glued to the discovered searches, "Jimmy looked me up on every other trip." She lifted her gaze to look at Morris. "That should help you narrow down your search?" Despite her questioning note, she seemed to be drawing a conclusion rather than posing a question.

Morris nodded and said, "Yes, we think so."

Before he could say more, Andy, who had returned to scanning the folder in Sharon's hands, looked up frowning at her. "Every other trip," he mumbled. More loudly, he added, "According to this," he pointed at the folder with a tilt of his chin, "your _next_ trip is that other trip."

That revelation made Rusty gulp down almost audibly. He had been around the police long enough to have an inkling about what that meant, especially with the way Morris started looking more confident. The FBI already had some kind of plan in mind, and whatever that plan was, it would involve Sharon's next business trip.

"Exactly," Morris told Andy. "We will need your help," he shifted his focus to Sharon again, "coordinating with the NFL-"

Mike's eyes got wide, and he interrupted him. "You plan on setting up an alert on any searches on the Captain the next time she's out of town," he said, the words a conclusion, not a question.

"Yes," Morris confirmed, giving Mike a quick glance. "We would just need the NFL's permission to add a tweak or two to your system, have a flag raise the moment somebody unauthorized looked up your name," he told Sharon. "We would like to do that as soon as possible, but if that pattern is right, Ma'am-"

"Jimmy will be looking my name up from New York next week," Sharon finished for him. Her next business trip would take her there for four days, starting next Monday.

Morris closed his mouth momentarily, before nodding and saying, "Yes, Ma'am."

"And if you made those tweaks to the system?" Sharon prodded, but Rusty was sure she already knew the answer to her question. After all, even he could now guess what the plan was.

Morris replied instantly. "Our team would be ready to track down the IP address the moment a flag was raised."

They all started nodding, even Rusty, as they also started agreeing to that plan. "And if you find a physical address fast enough," Sharon started, trailing off.

"We might finally catch the bastard," Andy finished for her.

"Chief Howard?"

They all looked around in search of the source of the interruption, only to find Commander Mason standing at the entrance of the murder room. Everybody but Morris and Howard seemed surprised to see him at this hour.

"Commander," Howard said, walking up to him.

"You called?" Mason asked, sounding genuinely puzzled.

"Yes," Howard confirmed, turning to face the squad again. "You're caught up on almost everything," he told them.

"Almost?" Andy asked, even though Howard looked as if he was about to say more.

"We will fill you in on the rest, Andy," Howard replied, sounding ever so slightly irritated by his rude interruption. He looked at Provenza then. "May we use your office?" he asked, tilting his head in the direction of it.

Frowning a little, Provenza nodded, and started leading the way. Mason and Morris immediately followed, not waiting for a proper invitation, but Howard lingered behind only long enough to look at Sharon. "Please, join us."

Her eyebrows lifted in brief surprise, but she said, "Sure," and followed. Rusty noted she threw Andy a quick look, and if he were to guess, neither she nor the Lieutenant seemed overly concerned.

Once they closed the office door behind them, it was Amy who voiced the unspoken question. "What's that all about?"

Confirming Rusty's musings, Andy answered, his eyes set on the office's current occupants. "We're about to get Winnie Davis off our backs." Turning to face his team, he shrugged and added grimly, "I hope."

Even though everybody gave him a puzzled look, he did not elaborate further, but simply walked toward his desk, and took a seat.

Feeling suddenly odd just standing there in front of the murder board with everybody else seated and staring expectantly at the open blinds of Provenza's office, Rusty followed Andy and sat down behind the empty desk closest to his. For a few moments, everybody lapsed into a tense silence, busying themselves with alternating between looking over what information Morris had shared with them so far, and chancing a glance into the office.

"Do you think the plan can really work?" Rusty decided to ask Andy.

It was Mike who answered, however. "With a little luck, yes."

Rusty considered the answer for a moment, trying to see what luck had to do with it. The rhythm in which Jimmy seemed to be checking in on Sharon's schedule seemed safe enough, so he didn't think that was dependent on luck. "He might be out of the café by the time they reached his location," he finally said.

Mike nodded in confirmation. "They would, of course, probably first seal off a few blocks, precisely because of that."

"But?" Rusty prodded.

Andy answered. "If Jimmy manages to slip away anyway, but feels the heat on him, it-"

Rusty swallowed and interrupted, "It might tip him off that you're on his, on Stroh's, trail."

Andy sighed. "Yeah," he admitted reluctantly.

"It's still the best plan we have," Julio chipped in.

Just as reluctantly, Andy repeated, "Yeah."

"And is this your case now?" Rusty asked when everybody seemed to return to their own devices. "Officially?" he clarified.

Andy swayed in his chair, peeking into the office, before answering. "Officially, this is a joint investigation between the FBI and local law enforcement where those women have disappeared. However, I'm guessing Morris now officially asked the LAPD's help on this, and in order to cover our bases, Howard is in there," Andy hooked a thumb over his shoulder, "asking Mason to be our boss on all things Stroh for a while."

It drew the attention of the rest of the squad again. It was Buzz who knowingly, albeit somewhat hesitantly, asked, "Better Mason than Davis?"

Andy shrugged, turning in his chair to face Buzz. "Davis is worried about Howard's and my connection to Stroh, so in an effort to appease her worries," a small, sly smirk crept up to his face, "Sharon suggested Howard utilize another officer in the running for Assistant Chief."

Buzz just nodded, an impressed smile on his face though, and if Rusty was interpreting the rest of the squad's expressions correctly, they rather liked Sharon's idea, too. Rusty had never met either of the two other Assistant Chief candidates, but based on what little he heard about them so far, he preferred Mason over Davis as well.

Julio said, "Davis will flip out." The possibility seemed to amuse him quite a bit.

"Well," Andy said on a sigh, apparently not finding any of it as amusing as Julio, "she can't go over the Assistant Chief's head, whether he's a temporary one or not."

With that they fell into another slightly tense silence. While everybody occupied themselves with a file or a computer, Rusty found himself trapped inside his own head. They might have a plan now, and it was to a certain degree rather comforting, but his earlier panic and worry slowly crept up on him again. While arresting Jimmy might bring them closer to finding Stroh, it wouldn't be the first time that they found his accomplice rather than Stroh himself.

It wasn't the possibility of Rusty being Stroh's target once again, as irrational, yet likely it seemed, that put him on edge. It was the fact that because of him, Sharon had most likely become a target again as well. He wanted so much for the fingerprint to be but a strange investigatory error, or that Jimmy's connection to Stroh and Sharon wasn't but an incredible happenstance. However, the harder he tried to convince himself of that, the more certain he became of the fact that Stroh was back. He was back, and aside from just assuming he was after them, after loose ends and old grudges, they had no clue what his end game was. It left Rusty feeling more vulnerable than he could ever remember being.

He caught sight of Sharon telling Mason something. She was waving her hand, in that steadfast, deliberate motion of hers. Whatever she was saying, she was sure of it, and more than polite in expressing it. Rusty smiled inwardly. He used to hate that about her. He thought it made her calculated, sly, arrogant. He was quick to learn that she was indeed sly and calculated, but only when necessary, and even then, never arrogant. She was convinced, determined, careful and deliberate in every step she took in order to achieve the goal she thought was best. Best for others, rarely best for her.

Without warning, an overwhelming feeling of guilt washed over him. He wondered if she was yet again making one of those many decisions that would benefit him, while costing her. Was she again, as she had done so many times before, bargaining one way or another in order to keep him safe? She did not deserve any of this. He had met a lot of people in his life so far, and he could see how many of them maybe might, but not Sharon. Yet here she was; in danger, worried, afraid. All of that, because five years ago, he had showed up in her murder room and she was too kind to send him away.

Suddenly, Rusty was on his feet and halfway toward the break room. He had no recollection of getting up and starting to walk, let alone of deciding to do so. He felt the uncomfortably familiar tightening in his throat. His vision blurred as his eyes moistened. In swift, but hectic movements he reached the break room door, almost blindly turning the knob. The moment he managed to open it, he stepped inside the room, and slamming the door shut, slumped with his back against it, fighting for composure.

He couldn't remember the last time he cried. Whenever it was, it most certainly was not because of Stroh, but he stood there doing just that. He was crying over the images Stroh's return evoked in his mind; the painful image of Sharon getting hurt on his account, the regretful image of how much better off Sharon would have been without him in her life, and the terrifying image of Stroh winning, and besting the both of them.

He was startled out of his depressing reverie when he both heard and felt a knock on the door. He pushed off it more on instinct than in answer, furiously wiping at his cheeks as he did so. The door did not open, however.

Instead, he heard Andy ask, "You okay, kid?"

As absurd as it must have been, Rusty rolled his eyes and cracked a smile. He doubted the man would ever cease calling him 'kid'. It was only a fleeting observation, but it must have lasted long enough for Andy to try again, this time with a worried sounding "Rusty?" on his lips.

Knowing better than to try the man's patience a third time, Rusty took a deep breath, and finally opened the door. "Yeah?" he mumbled as he did so.

If Rusty's distraught appearance surprised or made Andy uncomfortable, he hid it well. Closing the door behind him, he leaned against it, watching in silence as Rusty scrambled to take a seat at one of the tables. When he finally settled, Andy spoke. "Fight or flight?" he asked simply.

Rusty looked up, a frown on his brow. "Neither," he said, surprising himself with the answer.

Andy seemed not to have expected that answer either. One of his eyebrows shot up briefly, but his expression quickly transformed into a smirk. "She's gonna like hearing that."

Rusty dropped his gaze to the tabletop. The words that suddenly poured out of him only surprised him further. "I wish I could flee, disappear, not be the source of any of this," he spoke quietly, but heatedly, "spare her of all these problems, but," he chuckled bitterly, "she'd probably just hunt me down and drag me back home." He chanced a glance at Andy, but he was merely listening to him patiently, so he went on. "I want to fight back, catch Stroh, but my best bet to do so, is through you guys." He shrugged. "I've caused her," he briefly looked up again, " _you_ enough trouble. Doing anything without your okay, would only make an already bad situation, worse."

Rusty heard Andy chuckle, and after a bout of shuffling, he found the man taking a seat across from him. Although slightly confused by Andy's reaction, Rusty kept his gaze on the table. "How long have you lived with Sharon now?" Andy asked, making himself comfortable in his chair.

That had Rusty's head snap up to look at him properly now. He was wearing an amused smile. "Five years," Rusty answered on a questioning note and over narrowed eyes.

"And how long have you known me?" Andy asked, shrugging.

That completely threw Rusty. Frowning in open puzzlement, he again answered with more of a question than an answer. "About as long."

Andy's expression turned positively smug. On an almost mocking note, he asked, "And you think she minds trouble?"

Rusty didn't know whether to be amused or disgusted by Andy's retort. In the end, humor prevailed, and he let out a low chuckle. More seriously though, he said, "Stroh isn't," he rolled his eyes over his next words, "that kind of trouble."

"Still," Andy said matter-of-factly, tilting his head to the side.

Rusty's look turned bland, but there was no denying that the man was right, even if he was joking. Whether Rusty felt guilty about it or not, Sharon would never regret taking him in and becoming his mother. If anything, it would probably make her all the more determined to keep him around. Feeling suddenly foolish, even childish over his earlier loss of composure, another thought popped into Rusty's mind. He sounded accusatory only by accident. In reality, he was in awe. "How are you," he waved a hand at Andy, "so calm about this?"

Rusty suppressed an eye roll when Andy smiled, his gaze falling on the wall behind Rusty and turning somewhat wistful. No matter how many times he had seen a matching look on his mother's face, witnessing it on Andy, too, would probably forever make him feel a little uncomfortable, as if he was intruding on something belonging to just the two of them. "She doesn't like it when I lose my cool," Andy said simply.

That made Rusty chuckle again. He had never thought about it before, but suddenly he realized the two of them had something very much in common; they'd both do just about anything for Sharon. "Thanks, Andy," he told him, not exactly sure what he was thanking him for, but the words sounded no less genuine.

Andy gave him a long, hard look, but then merely nodded curtly, before saying, "Anytime, kid."

Rusty was about to roll his eyes, yet again, at Andy's nickname for him, but was interrupted by a knock on the door that was instantly followed by the door swinging open. They both turned to the source of the interruption, and found Provenza standing in the doorway.

"Sorry to interrupt," he said, eyeing Rusty, "but they want to clear something with you," he told Andy.

Andy immediately took to his feet. The slight crease on his brow revealed he wasn't sure what they could possibly need to clear with him, but he was not about to argue. He gave Rusty a slightly questioning look, and only when Rusty nodded back, silently telling him he would be alright, did he tell Provenza, "Sure," before stepping out and walking down the hall.

Provenza leaned against the doorframe, and looked over Rusty. Raising an eyebrow in response, Rusty said, "I am not doing anything stupid."

Provenza's lips twitched toward a momentary smile, but then he tilted his head to the side, in the direction Andy just took off in. "I was wondering if he was."

Rusty saw right through his lame attempt at covering up his concern for him, but grinned and said, "Not unless mom tells him to."

He laughed quietly when the retort made Provenza roll his eyes. "Come on," Provenza pushed off the doorframe, "you should be heading home in a few."

"Already?" Rusty asked, but stood nonetheless.

Provenza sighed, and gestured for Rusty to start walking. "Well, Stroh might be LAPD's case, but there's not much of a case when it doesn't seem to be happening in LA."

They started walking down the hall, and Rusty was frowning when he asked, "So, what's the plan then?"

"We hope the feds and NYPD find Jimmy," Provenza said, shrugging, sounding none too pleased about it. If Rusty were to guess, he was itching to do something more hands-on just as much as he was.

Rusty had already asked Sharon this question once, but found himself asking Provenza now as well. "And if you don't?"

Provenza looked at him, a strangely determined look on his face. "We will."

…

He didn't mean to eavesdrop, he had been certain they had turned in for the night. It was well past midnight, and he was only heading to the kitchen because, barely an hour into his slumber, he woke up thirsty. He had just reached the couch in the living room, when he heard their voices. He looked in their direction, and if it hadn't been for the faint city lights illuminating them, he might have missed the two forms standing outside on the balcony, their backs turned to the open glass doors. It surprised him, for it was February after all, even if in Los Angeles.

"Come back to bed," Rusty heard Andy say, and judging by the tone of his voice, it wasn't his first request. He wondered how long they were out there.

He couldn't make out what Sharon said in response, but whatever it was, it prompted Andy to take a step closer to her and put his arm over her shoulders.

"We've got him covered." This time Andy spoke more quietly, but Rusty could still hear him.

The 'him' in question was, of course, Rusty. Provenza had been right earlier, and they had indeed headed home soon after he called Andy away. Mason had been given official lead on the Stroh investigation, but like Provenza hinted, there was not much the LAPD could investigate outside of Los Angeles. Covering Rusty, however, fell well within their purview, and, much to his relief, meant he was only given an undercover protection detail. He would be under surveillance by a single undercover officer at all times, while at the condo, both in Sharon's absence and presence, Andy was to be his official bodyguard. Rusty had meant what he had told Andy in the break room, and in compliance with that, agreed to everything without objection. He couldn't take Sharon's worries away fully, only the capture of Phillip Stroh could accomplish that, but he could help lessen it somewhat by at least not fighting them on their decisions.

"I know," Rusty could make out Sharon's words this time. He smiled when he heard her laugh and add, "I thought we agreed you'd only move in once you sold your house."

Andy had been spending so much time at the condo lately that, as far as Rusty was concerned, the man was already practically living with them. Why they kept insisting on selling Andy's house before making the move official, Rusty did not know, but he figured they had their reasons and didn't pry. Besides, he had learned a while ago that it wasn't really a decision he had much say in, even if they made him part of their house hunting efforts. Knowing that, Andy's next words surprised him.

"It's only me because it's convenient." He sounded serious. "If you think it will make Rusty uncomfortable, we can post an officer at the front door, but you know ho-"

"No, no," Sharon interrupted, raising her voice slightly. "No," she repeated more gently, snaking an arm around Andy's waist, "neither one of us is uncomfortable with this. He agreed to protection at the condo, and I'm sure he's glad he can avoid seeing a uniform each time he walked in or out of here."

Rusty smiled to himself. She was spot on. He wouldn't have argued had they posted a uniformed officer at the door, but he was really glad that they hadn't. His worry alone was a constant reminder of Stroh, he could do without another one.

"Well, if that's not the issue, come back to bed then," Andy muttered.

Again, Rusty couldn't make out what Sharon said, but the slight raise of her shoulder followed by their slumping made him think she at least sighed.

Andy let Rusty know what she said though. "Worry in bed then," he said curtly.

He didn't know whether to laugh or scream at that. On the one hand, it always amused him how blunt Andy could be around Sharon. Nobody Rusty knew dared being quite as blunt with her. He certainly never was. Honest, yes, most of the time. Blunt, not if he could help it. On the other hand, he felt anger simmer in him. Maybe his thinking was akin to that of a petulant child, but he felt it was incredibly unfair. How come that whenever they were finally happy and more or less worry-free, something popped up and knocked everything out of balance again?

"Those missing women," Sharon said, obviously ignoring Andy's insistence, "I try not to, but I can't help imagining Emily, or even Nicole, in their stead."

The way her voice cracked in the end made Rusty swallow hard. Before they left, Morris had filled them in on one final piece of new information. Apparently, a woman had been reported missing in Houston around noon that day, or well, given the hour, the day before. Her description resembled the other five women that have gone missing, and just like them, she had disappeared after a fun night out, and there were no clues as to where she went, with whom or even when.

"Me, too," Rusty heard Andy say, his voice sounding just as emotional as Sharon's. "But they only resemble each other in looks. Nicole's married with kids, and Emily isn't a party girl, you know that."

"Still," Sharon said.

Still, it was hard to chase away the image, Rusty silently finished her thought for her. Now that the image was planted in his head, he couldn't quite shake it off either. It didn't matter that rationally he, just like Sharon, knew Andy was right.

"I wish you'd agreed to protection," Andy said, changing the topic.

Rusty wished that, too. After settling on his protection, the team and Agent Morris had discussed hers. Realistically, there was no way for a police officer to follow Sharon around like Rusty; maybe in LA, but not if she went out of town on business. They had therefore tried talking her into using NFL's resources, claiming she now had grounds to warrant requesting one of their bodyguards, but she resolutely refused. She had decided that, even if she was no longer an officer of the law, she still had a license to carry arms, and doing that would be more than enough. Andy in particular had argued against her decision quite heatedly, more heatedly than Rusty ever recalled the two of them discussing anything, especially in front of the squad, but she would not budge.

She did, however, resolve to address the hacking issue with the NFL. Being their Chief of Security meant she was indeed in charge of all matters regarding NFL's safety inside and outside of the football field, but that did not necessarily mean she was the sole shot caller. Apart from the few things she was personally in charge of, security was otherwise a matter of coordination and delegating between departments. Seeing as IT was beyond her scope of expertise, naturally her involvement with their security work did not go beyond making sure they were doing things by the book and filling out their reports correctly and on time. Tomorrow, an FBI agent who had worked on tracking down Jimmy's address, was set to meet with one of NFL's IT workers in order to put their plans in motion. After their plan hopefully worked, they were to discuss upgrading the system in order to prevent breaches like these from happening again.

"Andy," Sharon said, and she sounded exasperated.

"Fine," Andy bit out, his earlier frustration over her decision apparently not having dissipated yet.

Rusty wondered if they had been fighting over that again, and if maybe that added to Sharon's insomnia, but the next thing he saw them do quickly stopped him from analyzing it further. He was also suddenly reminded that he wasn't supposed to be standing there, least of all eavesdropping. It was an innocent sight really, but he found his undetected presence awfully intrusive just then. Sharon had merely turned to face Andy, and wrapped her other arm around him, before resting her head against his chest. Andy hugged her back, and tucked her head neatly under his chin. From what Rusty could make out in the dim light, Sharon held onto him tightly, and Andy's grip on her was just as tight.

Her low, almost pained hum prompted Rusty to finally turn around. Forgetting all about being thirsty, he quickly tiptoed back to his room.

As he quietly shut the door behind him, he rested his forehead against its cool wooden surface and closed his eyes. If this was what her concern for him did to Sharon now, he couldn't help but think back to how it must have been for her when Stroh first escaped. He had found her sitting in the living room in the middle of the night on one occasion. It was maybe a couple of weeks after Stroh escaped, and by that time he was more than set in ignoring the man even existed. When she had simply told him her current case was keeping her up, he had not thought much of it. Now, though, he wondered if the case she had referred to was Stroh, and if it was, how many more sleepless nights she had perhaps spent like that in the living room or out on the balcony. He tried to remember whether there were any other changes in that period that he was so oblivious to. He knew she had worked a lot, but it was hard to tell whether she worked more than usual. She kept in touch with her kids as often as she always did. She had been just as devoted to taking care of him as she had ever been (whether he needed to be mothered was still under debate). The idea that she must have been this worried back then, too, and that he completely missed it made him feel awful.

His eyes suddenly flew open when, with a pang of guilt, he realized there _had_ been one noticeable change. She and Andy had gone from 'not dating several times a month' to 'not dating at all in months'. He hated that he had managed to complicate her life in that regard, too. If only he had noticed it back then. He could have tried to help ease her worries somehow, he would have definitely asked about Andy. But then again, even if he did, she probably wouldn't have let him help. No, she would have insisted everything was alright whether he agreed or not, and more importantly, she would have insisted that it was her job to take care of him and not vice versa.

Suddenly, Rusty felt incredible gratitude toward Andy. The idea of the man being romantically involved with his mother still made him feel awkward and out of place more often than he cared to admit, but if there was one thing he could not deny, it was that he was good for Sharon. Whatever made them drift apart the last time Stroh had come knocking on their door clearly wasn't an issue this time around. The idea that Sharon now had at least someone in front of whom she did not feel the need to appear calm and in control put a smile on Rusty's face. He found himself also liking the fact that, even if apparently they argued about it, she did not seem to mind that Andy wanted to help and protect her. Judging by their moment earlier on the balcony, she was actually more than willing to seek his comfort in other ways. He was still fairly certain his mother never ever freaked out, but he found it strangely comforting to know that she had someone in front of whom she could, should she ever feel the desire to, freak out after all.

Rusty lifted his head when he heard shuffling in the hallway. He chuckled silently, privately proud that Andy had apparently finally managed to talk Sharon into returning to bed. When he heard the low click of their bedroom door shutting, he turned around and slipped into his own bed.

That he was thirsty did not cross his mind again. Instead, he fell asleep on a prayer; a prayer that their plan next week worked out.

 **TBC**

* * *

I love exploring Rusty's state of mind, so please, don't hesitate to tell me your thoughts on Rusty's point of view here.


	11. Chapter 11

I'm really glad you liked my interpretation of Rusty! Your reviews were just lovely, thank you. Keep 'em coming! 😉

Before we see what happens in New York and if we finally meet Jimmy, I'd like to give MajorCFan a huge thanks. It would have taken me forever to finish this chapter had it not been for her continuous support and words of encouragement. She's the best!

Enjoy!

* * *

 **TAKE THE PLUNGE - CHAPTER 11**

The week leading up to Sharon's trip to New York passed at an agonizingly slow pace. She found herself in a constant state of both impatience and trepidation. She was eager for the investigation to move along and yield some palpable results, but at the same time, she feared what those results might be. What was worse, there was always the possibility of Jimmy, and by extension Stroh, suddenly starting to stray from their routine. Although Rusty was under a watchful eye at all times, Sharon felt awfully vulnerable when she thought of all the ways he could be hurt if they did.

There had been some movement in their investigation. The FBI had managed to more or less confirm that it was Jimmy who kept accessing NFL's servers illegally. It took them another day to check out all the internet cafés that popped up when they traced the IP addresses, and most of them either had no security cameras, or only had some installed as props. However, they ultimately found two cafés whose employees recognized a photo of Jimmy. They could not recall the exact time of his visit, nor had they seen Stroh with him, but they clearly remembered the man's face. For further confirmation, both the FBI and the local law enforcement were combing through security footage and traffic cams in the surrounding area, but they were having no luck thus far.

The development felt rather relieving anyway, as it ever so slightly raised everybody's confidence that their plan would work, and that they were on the right track. Nonetheless, Sharon still wasn't sleeping well, and if she wasn't sleeping, neither was Andy. She had spent two more nights either on the balcony or in the living room, holding a silent vigil. Over what, she couldn't say. All she could say for sure was that she was nervous, and she couldn't wait for her trip to New York to put their plan into motion. Each night, Andy would soon be up, too, pleading with her to return to bed. On the third night, when she woke up from her restless slumber, and intended to sneak out of the bedroom once again, she found he had not slept at all, but had instead kept his own silent vigil over her. In the darkness, she hadn't even noticed he was awake until she felt his fingers wrap around her wrist, as she started slipping out of bed.

 _"Why don't you not sleep here?" he mumbled, squeezing her wrist lightly._

 _It stopped her mid movement, and she sank back onto the bed. "I didn't mean to wake you," she whispered, looking his way trying to make out his face._

 _He just scoffed, letting go of her wrist, and after a bout of shuffling on his side of the bed, the bedside lamp came to life. "Good," he told her on a tired smile, "thing I wasn't asleep then."_

 _"I'm sorry," she said on a sigh, turning her head to look at the poorly illuminated ceiling._

 _Andy propped his head up on an elbow and looked at her for a long moment. She didn't need to meet his gaze to know he was worried. "Is this too much for you?" he suddenly asked, waving a hand between them._

 _A lot of things were too much for her at the moment, but it wasn't the question itself that had Sharon's head abruptly turn to give him a shocked look. The implication of his gesture had. "What?" she choked out._

 _He shrugged a single shoulder. "I asked you to not shut me out, and I still want that, but," his brow furrowed a little, and she knew whatever he would say next he would say only reluctantly, "if you need some sp-"_

 _"No," she said, startling them both with just how loudly she said the word. Bless him for being willing to offer her some breathing room if she needed it, even if it went against all his instincts. "No," she repeated more quietly, but no less heatedly, as she turned onto her side, mirroring his position to better look at him. "I'm just," she paused with a sigh, "restless," she said lamely._

 _"You slept just fine, Sharon, before Monday," Andy said. "What's changed?"_

 _"I only slept fine with you here," Sharon said somewhat defensively. "Less fine when I was out of town," she added on an eye roll, leaving the 'without you' unvoiced._

 _"With me here," he repeated, a small, almost proud smile tugging at his lips. The smile quickly vanished, however, when he then frowned and asked, "But not anymore?"_

 _In her sleep deprived state, the pained undertone of his question teared her up before she could even attempt to pull herself together. It simply overwhelmed her how much he wanted to help her, ease her worries, and how much it pained him when he couldn't._ _"Oh, God, no," she let out, reaching a hand out to his face and pulling it close so she could kiss him. When she leaned back, her palm now resting on his cheek, she added, "I'm always more fine," she rolled her eyes at the silly wording, "with you here, Andy._ _I don't need space," she clarified, sounding as horrified by the idea as she felt. "That's the last thing I want from you," she reiterated, pressing her lips briefly to his once more._

 _Andy lifted his hand, giving her an affectionate look as his fingers snaked into her hair, behind her ear. "Then stop sneaking out," he told her pleadingly, his thumb stroking gently over her cheek._

 _Sharon sighed, and rested her forehead against his chin, finding the movement of his thumb oddly soothing. "I feel trapped inside my own head." S_ _he shared her confession in a low murmur. "It's easier to escape its confines when I'm not in bed," she added, knowing it wasn't much of an explanation, but hoping he would understand anyway._

 _Andy suddenly pulled back and lifted the comforter off himself. "Let me help break you out of your head then," he told her, getting to his feet before she could even realize what was happening._

 _"How do you suggest doing that?" she asked, watching him with a raised eyebrow when he gathered their comforter and bunched it up in his arms._

 _"Let's try not sleeping in the living room together," he said simply. "Come on," he reached out a hand to grab hers and tugged on it, "I know what I'm doing," he added, tilting his head in the direction of the living_ _room._

She had shaken her head at him in disbelief, doubting his suggestion would resolve anything. She heeded his request, however, knowing it was the least she could do after having unintentionally kept him at arm's length again. It turned out that he did know what he was doing, and understood her poorly described state of mind perfectly. Assured that she didn't desire space, but rather preferred his presence, Andy had been correct in assuming that joining her in her escape would help relax her even more than just the change in scenery. They had curled up on the couch, tucked in under the comforter, and spent a long while merely talking. Sharon was reminded of the fact that Andy knew more about easing troubled minds than he liked to admit, and while they had not come to any major revelations that night, his suggestion had indeed helped quiet down her inner turmoil. They both knew what intensified her insomnia; the fear of failing the next week in New York, or not getting the chance to even give their plan a shot should Jimmy not look her up again. The pressure had risen significantly in just a short few hours that Monday, and although they would keep on looking regardless of the outcome, the idea of their plan falling through and returning them to ground zero in their search, was almost as terrifying as the threat of Stroh itself. The idea planted a number of what-if scenarios in Sharon's head, making her mind run around in circles, and in turn, trapping her in her worry.

They had fallen asleep at some point, and hadn't woken until Rusty, who was surprised to see them sleeping on top of each other on the couch, gently shook them awake the next morning. It took a day to work out all the kinks in their backs afterwards, but it was a surprisingly restful night's sleep otherwise. They continued to worry after that, and the following nights remained restless, but for whatever reason, Sharon managed to spend them in her bed again.

As her flight to New York approached, Sharon found herself very reluctant to leave Rusty behind. At the same time, she found that Andy was just as reluctant to let her leave on her own. She had half-expected him to insist on accompanying her to New York, and he certainly looked like he very much wanted to as he drove her to the airport, but he hadn't said a word. Only when he promised to keep Rusty safe, and asked her not to worry about anything but herself, did she realize that Rusty was the reason why. Andy didn't like it, but he knew that the only way he would be able to help in easing her worries was by making sure her son was protected in her absence. By managing that, she would be less distracted ever so slightly, and better focused on watching her own back.

She boarded the plane with a heavy heart, missing both Andy and Rusty almost instantly, but she boarded it with renewed faith, too; faith that their plan might work. She also looked forward to seeing her daughter. Emily had the day off and would be picking Sharon up from the airport, then dropping her off at the NFL's main office. Once she was done, they were set to have dinner together at Emily's apartment where she would also crash for the night. Her daughter lived quite a distance away from the main office, so Sharon usually accepted the NFL's offered hotel accommodations that were much closer. She would take advantage of them the next day, but for this single evening, she would opt against them. The thought of cancelling her plans with Emily had crossed Sharon's mind, but only briefly, and only long enough to discard it. Sharon was resolute in not allowing Stroh's mere name to interfere with their lives like that, and besides, with everything that had been going on, she missed her daughter dearly, and she was eager to indulge in her company.

It had been after dinner, once they cleared the table and settled on the opposite sides of Emily's couch with cups of tea, that their conversation had shifted from the previous light topics, to the heavy one of the proverbial thorn in Sharon's side.

"How are you, mom?" Emily asked. Her gaze dropped to the tea clasped between her hands in her lap, and she added quietly, "With, you know..."

Sharon stayed quiet on purpose, knowing it would prompt Emily to look up again. When she indeed did, she finally answered. "I worry."

Emily frowned. On an exasperated sigh, and almost a whine, she said, "Mom."

Sharon had to suppress a smile. She was all too familiar with her children's disdain at her proclivity to be vague about matters she wanted to shield them from. In all fairness, by the time they grew up, it had become habit rather than need, but being aware of it did not stop her from still doing it. Sighing, she shifted on the couch, more safely tucking her legs underneath herself. "I've slept better before all this mess," she finally admitted.

"Is it really that serious?" Emily asked, concerned.

"When it comes to Phillip Stroh, Emily," Sharon gave her a grave look, "it only can be that serious."

"Do you really think you two are in danger?"

"It is hard to believe that everything we have discovered in connection to me so far is mere coincidence," she shrugged, "so, I do believe the two of us are targets."

"But if you think," Emily's brow drew together, "he's only back for revenge, wouldn't that make others targets as well? You're not the only reason why he was caught, right?"

"Well," Sharon tilted her head to the side, deciding how exactly to answer, "as a matter of fact we're not, but we are his _easiest_ targets."

"Because you're no longer working for the LAPD?" Emily prodded.

"I'm afraid so," Sharon confirmed.

In reality, the LAPD had decided to reach out to two more possible and most obvious targets. There was no indication that they really were on Stroh's list, but once the department officially got involved with the investigation, it was decided that DDA Rios, as well as Sharon's predecessor in Major Crimes, Brenda Leigh Johnson, be filled in on the latest developments. It was doubtful that Stroh would seek them out, for unlike Sharon, they were better protected in their professions, and more difficult to approach. However, those leading the investigation still felt they needed to be made aware of the situation. Both women, especially Brenda, whom Howard hated having to brief knowing just how deeply she detested Stroh, were eager to help somehow, but they were faced with an issue similar to Sharon's. They worked for the law, but neither one worked for the law enforcement. Rios had a slight advantage over them, however. She was still the prosecutor on Stroh's case, and if they finally managed to apprehend him, she would once again be responsible for convicting and sentencing him.

Emily hummed, in much the same contemplative manner her mother often did, and took a sip of her tea. Suddenly she laughed, albeit nervously. "I thought taking on the NFL job would keep you out of danger."

Sharon chuckled. "Believe it or not, so did I."

Emily chuckled again, too, but sobered fairly quickly only to say sadly, "I wish I could help."

Sharon reached over the couch, hating to see her so dejected, and patted her forearm. "Seeing you helps more than you know," she told her on a reassuring smile.

Emily returned the smile with a small one of her own. Probably trying to pull herself out of her more worrying thoughts, she asked, "How's the littlest brother taking it?" She shrugged and added, "I'd ask him myself, but I'm not sure he would want to talk about it."

"No, he probably wouldn't," Sharon agreed sadly. "He's worried, too." She quirked an eyebrow at her daughter, and on a slight eye roll added, "About me mostly."

"With good reason," Emily said somewhat bitterly.

Sharon took a moment to sip on her own tea, before trying to ease Emily's concerns. "I am safe, we both are," she told her. "And hopefully, by the end of my stay here," Emily, of course, knew the basics of the FBI's plan; there was no way around telling either her or Ricky, "we will at least catch the person who we suspect kidnapped and killed six women."

Emily nodded somewhat absentmindedly. "Just don't add yourself to that list, mom," she said quietly.

The emotion that laced Emily's unexpected words, created a lump at the back of Sharon's throat, but she was more confused by them than touched. "What's that supposed to mean?" Emily had not offered similar comments the last time Stroh threatened her and Rusty.

The startled look the question earned Sharon, made her think Emily hadn't meant to say that out loud. However, Emily put down her cup of tea on the coffee table in front of the couch, then scooted a bit closer to her mother, resting her hands on top of her thighs as she fully faced her, and said, "Just be careful, mom, okay? I know you'll do anything to protect Rusty, and I'm not faulting you for that," she shook her head, "but please, just be careful."

"Honey," Sharon let out, leaning toward the coffee table long enough to discard her own tea. She had been so wrapped up in her worry for Rusty, that she had inadvertently neglected to recognize how worried her other two children must be. When she leaned back, she put her hands over her daughter's and inquired about something else though. "Where is this coming from?"

Emily gave her an almost bewildered look. "You have proof that a _psychopath_ ," she nearly spat out the word, "is back in the country, and he and his accomplice seem to be following you across states. That's," she pointed a hand somewhere behind the couch, "where we're coming from!"

'We're'. Sharon noted these were Ricky's sentiments as well. "I'm a-" She wanted to say 'trained police officer' but that would have been a lie. Coming up short as she scrambled for another categorical thing to say, she closed her mouth, and gave up. There was nothing comforting she could really tell her daughter, when the fact she pointed out was exactly what worried her so much in the first place.

Emily raised an eyebrow at her, and as if reading her mind, muttered, "Exactly, can't use that one on us anymore, mom."

Sharon squeezed her daughter's hands, and gave her a soft look. "No, I can't," she admitted. "But, just because I no longer work for the police, does not mean I've forgotten how it's done, and-"

On an eye roll Emily finished the sentence for her. "You're always careful."

Sharon offered her a small affectionate smile, and confidently confirmed, "I always am."

Emily took a quick breath. Sharon had expected another argument to come forth, but instead she was pinned with a bland look, and accusingly, Emily said, "You're such a mother."

Sharon tried to stay composed, and even look sternly at her, but her efforts were successful for barely a second, after which a short snort bubbled to the surface. "Should I be insulted?" she managed to ask before proper laughter took over her.

Emily's eyebrows shot up at her reaction. "God, mom, you really are sleep-deprived." Her observation sounded genuinely concerned, but when that only fueled Sharon's laughter, it left her little choice but to join her.

"Oh," Sharon let out on a high, merry note after a few moments. "I needed that," she added, leaning into the back of the couch, and draping an arm over her daughter's shoulders to pull her into a sideways hug. "Oh," she said again, squeezing Emily's shoulders tightly, "I've missed you."

Emily shook her head, but squeezed her arm in between her mother's back and the couch, returning the embrace. "I'm not moving back to LA," she mumbled, leaning her head against Sharon's shoulder.

Sharon didn't see it, but when the words elicited another laugh from her, Emily smiled a little proudly at herself, clearly recognizing that her mother was in dire need of some comic relief. Sharon just wrapped her other arm around her, and mumbled back, "And I'm not going to stop hoping you will." In reality, she would never ask her to move back to LA, no matter how much she missed her, or hated that the distance between them was too big for them to see each other as often as they would like. She would tease her every now and then about it, throw a tempting offer her way on occasion as well, but as long as Emily was happy, she would never really interfere with the dream she was currently living.

They stayed silently embraced for a few more moments. The fact that it took Emily a while to finally loosen her hold on her, let Sharon know just how worried she was, and that she missed her equally as much. There was not much more, if anything, she could say on the Stroh matter, and she suspected Emily gathered as much, and instead sought out other comforts. They had seen more of each other since Sharon had taken the NFL job, but it was not nearly enough, so she found herself indulging in her daughter's nearness as well. She wasn't lying earlier either. Seeing her helped more than Emily would ever know.

When Emily finally pulled away, she had a contemplative look on her face, so Sharon merely looked back, patiently waiting for her to say her mind. "So, I hear Andy's moved in."

Sharon wasn't sure what she expected to come out of her mouth, but she most certainly had not expected that. In response, her eyes widened momentarily. Both Ricky and Emily were aware of the arrangements made regarding Rusty's protection, and of her other plans of joining households with Andy, so she could not understand what the mischievous glint in her daughter's eyes was exactly about. "I know, I have told you as much," she finally, rather deliberately, said.

Emily suddenly grinned, she was definitely past trying to finagle more information about Stroh out of her. "Oh, no, no, from what I hear," she was being positively smug now, "he's been spending every possible moment with you," she raised an eyebrow, "at your condo," she lowered her eyebrow, "for weeks now."

Sharon closed her eyes for a moment and shook her head at her daughter. "That is what you and Rusty discuss?" she asked in disbelief. "How much time Andy spends at my condo?"

"Yup," Emily quipped, not the least bit intimidated by the dangerous dip her mother's voice took on her final question. She tilted her head to the side. "Among other things."

Sharon shot her a narrow-eyed look. "Well, then you also know how much time he _hasn't_ spent there."

Emily perked up at that. "Oh, I do," she said matter-of-factly, "but we're not counting the few times you were out of town."

She looked like she had more to say, but when she stopped, and pinned Sharon with a challenging look, she was all but forced to ask, "And why is that?"

Emily smiled almost deviously. "Because we both know that was only because you wouldn't let the poor man move his stuff over as well. I'm sure he had no other choice but drop by his house occasionally for a batch of fresh clothes." She shot her mother a look, as if to add, 'Now, whose fault would that be?'

Sharon considered her for a moment. She did not appreciate the liberty her daughter took in teasing her, she was even less appreciative of her nosiness that bordered on meddling, but it warmed her heart to know just how accepting not just she, but her other two children had become of Andy's and her relationship. "You are much too old to be teasing your mother about her," she had paused for merely a second, simply because at her age, she considered the term 'boyfriend' almost juvenile, but the pause lasted long enough for her daughter to interrupt and pounce on her.

"Her _what_?" Judging by the smirk on Emily's face, she was taking more pleasure in this than Sharon really tolerated.

The interruption came at an excellent moment though, for it gave Sharon time to come up with a different approach. "As the child in this relationship, don't you think you should refrain from teasing me about my _love life_?" She made sure to raise her eyebrow and sound suggestive enough to make her daughter squirm.

When a shocked expression flashed across Emily's features, Sharon knew she had accomplished her mission. Emily recovered fairly quickly, however, and quite confidently said, "No, as a matter of fact, I don't." Under her breath, she added, "Although I think I am a little disgusted now."

That had Sharon laugh softly at her. "Well, stop being nosy," she smacked Emily's thigh playfully, "and I'll stop disgusting you," she said plainly.

"Now," Emily shifted on the couch and wrapped her arm around her mother's as she made herself more comfortable again, "where would be the fun in that, huh?"

Sharon shook her head at her, amused. "Yeah," she said, pressing a kiss to Emily's temple, "where would be the fun in that?"

Emily just laughed, then reached for the remote control. "How about a movie now?" She glanced at Sharon, and pulled a thinking face. "Something violent sounds good, I think." Her eyebrows lifted, and she let out, "Ah, a violent horror movie!" With that she started furiously scrolling down the titles that popped up on her TV.

Sharon simply shook her head again, and watched in silence as her daughter strayed far from both violent and horror movies. When she finally settled on a romantic comedy and curled up next to her, Sharon plopped a kiss into her hair. "Thank you," she whispered, then turned her attention to the movie.

Emily merely squeezed her arm in response, and focused on the TV, too.

 _..._

Sharon had appreciated her daughter's attempts at distracting her, and for the most part they had even been successful. She went to work the next morning feeling slightly lighter than the day before.

However, as the day went on, and work failed to be as good of a distraction as she would have hoped, she found herself in the by then all too familiar state of trepidation.

Agent Morris, who had arrived in New York the same day as Sharon, albeit on a purposefully different flight, had promised to call the instant Jimmy made a move, if he made a move at all. Although it was only the second day of her stay in New York thus far, Sharon was growing impatient and she wanted news sooner rather than later. The longer they waited, the smaller their chances were of anything happening at all.

Unfortunately, the day morphed into days, and none of them held any news either. Morris's daily updates always said the same, 'No hits yet. We are still waiting.'

Sharon was in low spirits as she finished up her morning meeting on her fourth and final day in New York. Not even the fact that she would finally be seeing Rusty and Andy again later that evening when she arrived back in LA could trump the fact that their optimistic plan was shaping up to be a complete bust. So when, as she strolled down a hallway after her meeting, a tall, brown-haired man, looking very formal in his black suit and tie, asked her for a moment, it did not even occur to her that it might have something to do with Jimmy.

"Are you Sharon Raydor?" he asked when his 'Excuse me.' made her come to a halt.

The mention of her name lifted her eyebrows, and she pressed the stack of folders she carried firmly against her chest as she folded her arms. "I am," she confirmed, a questioning note to the words.

"Hello," the man extended his hand in greeting, "I'm Andrew Hart." She accepted his hand and shook it. "I'm a Special Agent with the FBI," the man added.

That got Sharon's proper attention, and for a second all she managed to say was an almost startled, "Oh." as her mind started running a mile a minute.

"Agent Morris sent me, Ma'am," Agent Hart went on. "He would like you to join us in our offices. We have found and taken James Curtis into custody." He did not even wait for Sharon to confirm whether she even could leave or not, but started leading the way in the direction out of which he came, saying, "I believe time is of the essence here." After a few steps, however, he noticed Sharon wasn't following. He turned around. "Ma'am?"

"Agent Hart," she said very deliberately, "may I first see some credentials?" She lifted an eyebrow in challenge, and added, "Surely you understand why I cannot just take your word for it."

To her surprise, the man cracked a smile. Shaking his head, he fished his badge out of his pocket, already walking back to show it to her. Once he flipped the badge open for her to read, he said, "Agent Morris warned me you always meant business." He chuckled almost nervously. "I guess he wasn't exaggerating."

...

Sharon's amusement with Agent Morris's warning was short lived. Once she had been assured that the man was who he claimed to be, she made quick work of collecting her things, and let him give her a ride to FBI's New York headquarters. She was going to grill Agent Hart about the specifics of their operation on their way, but before she could, Morris called and filled her in himself.

Jimmy had triggered the FBI's alert when, from an internet café downtown, he had looked Sharon up. He had been completely worry-free, not at all in a rush as he checked her schedule, so when the NYPD and FBI suddenly flooded the place, he was completely caught off guard.

Letting Sharon watch the interrogation had not been part of any of their plans, so when Morris said he was thinking of doing exactly that, it was safe to say she had been caught off guard as well. However, Morris seemed fairly certain that Sharon might catch onto something during the interrogation that someone less familiar with the Stroh case would possibly miss. He was convinced they could only benefit from it.

She also found out why time was of the essence. Apparently, Jimmy had waived his right to an attorney, and they were therefore eager to start interrogating him before he changed his mind. What was more, Jimmy was still being transported to the FBI, and if Agent Hart drove fast enough, they would meet up there, just in time for the interrogation to commence.

Once they finally arrived, they made quick work of issuing Sharon a visitor's badge before escorting her up an elevator and down a few hallways, that, as she was told, led to where she would be watching the interrogation from. Aware that she was doing so as a civilian, being lead through the unfamiliar building like that felt oddly disconcerting to her. The thought of having her Captain's badge attached to her hip again, prominently popped into her head, and for the first time not in order to be allowed to hunt down Stroh personally, but in order to, as Andy had so eloquently put it once, hide behind her Captain's mask. She relaxed somewhat, however, when upon entering the FBI's equivalent of Major Crimes' electronics room, she was met by the familiar face of Agent Morris. He offered her a small smile and reached a hand out to shake hers in greeting.

"We've got him," he told her rather proudly, tilting his head toward the glass panel of what Sharon knew was a one way mirror.

There she finally laid eyes on the man who had, along with Phillip Stroh, become the bane of her existence over the past several weeks. He seemed oddly relaxed, seated in a chair at the grey, metal table that was bolted to the floor in the middle of the dimly lit room. The fact that his hands were cuffed, and rather tightly by the looks of it, did not seem to bother him in the least. The closed manila folder that lay on the table, just a few inches out of his handcuffed reach, did not seem to pique his curiosity either. In the corner, Sharon took in the form of an unfamiliar male figure, no doubt another FBI agent, standing guard, but she did not linger on him. Instead her attention quickly returned to Jimmy.

She wasn't sure what she expected of him when she finally met, or in this case, saw him, but she found the air of nonchalant confidence surrounding him more unnerving than she cared to admit.

She gave Morris a small smile in return, and asked, "Stroh?"

Morris shrugged. "We're about to start working on that."

Sharon nodded, eyes still set on Jimmy. It would have been too good to be true if he had said they had caught Stroh as well.

"I'm afraid I can't allow you to talk to him yourself," Morris then told her. She finally unglued her eyes from Jimmy, when he pointed out one of the buttons on the control panel located underneath the mirror. Unlike Major Crimes' electronics room, there were no chairs or monitors in this one, only a single control panel, riddled with various buttons and small indicating lights, of which she only recognized a red illuminated one labeled as 'rec', that obviously meant the interrogation room was already being recorded. "But if you push and hold this," Morris did exactly that, "you can reach me if you have any suggestions while I'm in there." He then lifted a hand to his left ear, indicating the hidden ear piece he was wearing.

Sharon took a breath and nodded. "Thank you," she said, "but before you start, have you informed Commander Mason and-"

"Major Crimes?" Morris supplied. Not waiting for confirmation, he added, "Yes, I did. They also know I invited you over."

"Okay," she said on another nod. She hadn't had a chance to call Andy, and upon arrival she was instructed to turn off her phone. She wished she had Andy, and the rest of the squad really, for moral support, but knowing they were already appraised of the latest developments, felt comforting enough for the time being.

"Anything in particular you think I should ask?" Morris asked, starting to walk toward the door.

Sharon considered his question for a moment. Agent Morris might often not look it, but he was a good investigator. Although she wished she could do so herself, she had faith in his ability to interrogate Jimmy thoroughly and get as much information out of him before he came to his senses and demanded a lawyer. "He is confident," she finally said, more to herself than Morris. She lifted a lone eyebrow at him, very pointedly, and added, "Maybe _too_ confident."

Getting the hint, Morris nodded. "Let's see if I can rattle him then," he said, before finally opening the door and stepping out.

The few moments he needed to switch rooms, Sharon used to think over the evidence they had on Jimmy thus far. They could easily convict him on the hacking charge. Perhaps something could even be dug up regarding those stolen credit cards they found. Based on the single fingerprint found at his apartment, and her connection to Stroh, there was also a slim possibility of bringing him up on charges of aiding and abetting, but that was nowhere near enough in serving justice. Maybe they could build a circumstantial case around Amelia Page, the first woman that had gone missing, too, but that would not resolve the remaining five missing persons cases. With their lack of evidence, their best bet was to get Jimmy to talk, and preferably about both the missing women and Stroh. What was more, it needed to happen fast. The longer it took to get any kind of information out of Jimmy, the higher the possibility of Stroh getting wind of his arrest and going completely underground again.

She was pulled from her thoughts when Morris finally entered the interrogation room, and sat down across from Jimmy. Without further ado, he jumped straight into the questioning.

"Do you know why you're here, Mr. Curtis?" It was a typical introductory question.

Jimmy smirked, then leaned back in his chair. "Call me Jimmy, please."

The smirk didn't throw Morris. He merely amended his question. "Do you know why you're here, _Jimmy_?"

"Yes," Jimmy answered. "Hacking," he added on an eye roll, as if he considered the charges bogus.

"What were you looking for in NFL's servers, Jimmy?"

Jimmy smirked again, but this time raised his eyebrow at Morris, too. "Wouldn't you like to know."

That had Morris shuffle in his seat, in annoyance, if Sharon had to guess. "I do know," he said pointedly. "What has you so interested in NFL's Chief of Security?"

"Sharon Raydor," Jimmy drawled, smiling, and Sharon did not in the least appreciate the way her name rolled of his tongue. "Oh, I've learned quite a bit about her," Jimmy added. "Very interesting woman," he said, sounding almost in awe. "But," his tone suddenly turned slightly sad, "not really my type." He shrugged. "A friend of mine on the other hand..." he trailed off, tilting his head to the side.

Sharon's eyebrows shot up. Two openings, on the missing women and on Stroh, and they did not even have to dig too much.

Morris took note of the same thing as well. She could tell with the way he momentarily stiffened at Jimmy's words, but smartly, he did not address any of it just yet. Instead he said, "Must be a very good friend, if," he retrieved a sheet of paper from his folder, and started looking at it with feigned interest, "you looked her name up, how many times?" For effect, he started counting, as he trailed a finger down the list of dates on his retrieved sheet.

It did the trick and annoyed Jimmy enough to interrupt Morris before he could announce his final count. "He _is_ a very good friend," he confirmed. "Owed him one, too," he added on a shrug.

"You must owe him quite a lot," Morris said, relaxing into the back of his chair, "if you're willing to travel across country for him, too."

Jimmy smirked again, and what he said next, or rather the manner in which he said it, positively disgusted Sharon. "Well, we also have certain _business ventures_ together **."**

Morris finally opened the manila folder on the table, pulling a picture out of it. Sharon couldn't make out the face on it, but she knew it was a photo of the first victim. "Ventures such as this?" Morris asked, pushing the photo toward Jimmy.

Jimmy looked at it, and, not at all fazed by the fact that this was the face of a woman he had kidnapped, raped and killed, he actually chuckled, as if considering Morris's question absurd. Sharon found it astounding how purposefully obtuse he was obviously being, when he said, "You will have to clarify that question, Agent."

Morris's tone of voice suddenly changed, a note of clear disgust entering it. "Is this your type?" He punctuated his question by tapping his fingers against the photo.

Jimmy nodded appreciatively, as he looked at the picture again. Sharon suppressed an eye roll at the show he was giving them. As if he did not know exactly what the woman looked like. "Yes, very much so."

Morris fished out five more photos then, and lined them up neatly next to the one already on the table. "What about these?"

With feigned disinterest, Jimmy scanned them. "What about those?" he countered.

This aloofness of Jimmy's actually surprised Sharon. It wasn't like Stroh to partner up with this type of man. His partners were usually lacking in confidence, clumsy and jittery to a certain degree, and what was more, easily intimidated. Sharon saw none of that in Jimmy, and had it not been for Stroh's fingerprints in this man's apartment, she would have started to entertain the possibility that they were wrong about this supposed partnership. At the same time, however, she also wondered if, perhaps, Stroh had actually prepared Jimmy for a possible interrogation. Because, in Sharon's book, Jimmy's responses all but reeked of Stroh.

"They aren't your type?" Morris asked.

"Of course they are," Jimmy said dismissively. "I just don't see your point here."

"My point is this." Morris fished out another photo, and although Sharon again couldn't really see it, she knew it must have been of their first victim, dead.

With heightened interest Sharon watched Jimmy's reaction. His eyes widened momentarily, a clear sign that he had no idea that the victim's body had been found, but seemingly compassionately, he simply said, "That poor woman."

"Hmm," Morris let out almost derisively, leafing through his folder in search of another photo. Once he found it, he placed it on top of the others and asked, "Do you know who this is?"

Jimmy took a look at the photo, with greater interest this time, and as he took it in, his eyes widened again, a split second longer than a moment ago. Of that he was unaware as well, it would seem. He, however, offered no reply this time.

"That," Morris tapped a finger over the photo, "is you renting out the storage unit where this," his finger now returned to the photo of their first victim, "woman was found in."

For the first time since the interrogation started, Jimmy squirmed. He tried folding his arms across his chest, in an obvious attempt at defensiveness, but failed seeing as his hands were in cuffs. Awkwardly, he resigned to plop them back down on top of the table. Sharon found it odd that Jimmy not only didn't know Amelia's body had been discovered, but that he also had no clue that he had been marked as the prime suspect. The fact had her wonder if Stroh perhaps had his hands in that as well.

When Jimmy again remained silent, Morris said, taunted really, "Cat got your tongue?"

For whatever reason that seemed to be the wrong thing to say, for Jimmy smiled sweetly, and said, "My friend advised me when to keep my mouth shut." He shrugged, and added, "This," he lifted his chin indicating the latest photo displayed on the table, "is when."

Sharon sighed. They needed him to continue talking, because they only had circumstantial evidence tying him to the first victim, and so far nothing but Sharon to link him to the remaining five. To make matters worse, Sharon's link was a very weak one, and, in lieu of Jimmy's confession, strengthening it hinged on connecting everything conclusively to Phillip Stroh. As Morris seemed to hesitate at Jimmy's latest words, she pushed the button he had pointed out to her a few minutes ago, and said, "That is Stroh talking," she was absolutely positive now that Stroh had coached Jimmy for precisely this kind of interrogation, "and he is still not asking for an attorney."

She knew that Morris heard her loud and clear, when he shifted a little in his chair. "Okay," he told Jimmy, nodding. "Let's see if this will get you talking again."

He proceeded to collect all the spread out photos on the table, stacking them neatly and returning them into his folder. Once done, he went to the folder's final page and pulled out a completely new photograph and placed it in front of Jimmy. "Do you know this man?" he asked.

At this point, convinced that Stroh had coached him, it no longer shocked Sharon that Jimmy showed no reaction, but remained stony silent.

Morris didn't seem much bothered by it either, and Sharon guessed he must have come to conclusions similar to hers. He merely continued and said, "Did you know that aiding and abetting a known fugitive is a felony?"

When Jimmy continued his silence, Morris extracted a new sheet of paper out of his folder. Turning it toward Jimmy, he pointed at something and asked, "Do you know what this is?"

That elicited a response from Jimmy. He huffed, clearly suppressing an eye roll, and said, "A fingerprint," he paused, "obviously."

"And would it surprise you if I said it belonged to this man?" Morris asked, referring to Stroh's photo.

It certainly did not surprise Sharon that Jimmy again said nothing.

But Morris was prepared for that, and he added, almost smugly, "We found it in your apartment in Spokane."

When, at long last, Jimmy reacted in a way that did not seem rehearsed, Sharon smiled a small, victorious smile. Jimmy looked up at Morris with a positively startled look, and said, raising his voice for the first time, too, "Well, he used to be my lawyer, that's how it probably got there!"

Morris immediately pounced on that statement. "So you do know him?"

That made Jimmy swallow, and Sharon smiled to herself again, appreciating the successfully executed confusion tactic. Apparently, revealing that particular tidbit had not been his intention. When he said nothing, not because of what was probably some kind of agreement between him and Stroh, but because he was simply stumped for words, Morris chuckled and said, "Don't worry, we already knew that. His legal representation of you is a matter of public record, Jimmy." Shrugging he also, said, "I'm surprised he didn't tell you." He tilted his head to the side, and added, "However, _I_ will tell you that this is enough for us to add aiding and abetting a fugitive to your hacking charges."

"What?" Jimmy sounded positively alarmed now. "You can't prove that fingerprint is fresh!"

Morris shrugged. "True," he admitted in faux nonchalance. "But what do you think will it look like to a jury of your peers, when I explain to them your lawyer's connection to Sharon Raydor, whom you have already all but admitted to stalking on his account?"

When Jimmy's eyes widened in horror, Sharon took his now equally horrified silence as an opportunity to address Morris again. She pressed her finger to the microphone button once more and said, "He did not see that coming. Could it be that that fingerprint really was a stroke of luck for us?" Or to be more precise, since Stroh clearly did not prepare Jimmy for this particular line of questioning, could this be their way of getting him to tell on his partner?

She saw Morris nod at her words. She knew he had caught onto her train of thought, when he proceeded to intimidate Jimmy further. "I can't nail your friend, but I will take what I can get, and at least put _you_ behind bars."

It was a good scare strategy, and Sharon was certain Jimmy would break down and eagerly latch on to the unvoiced, 'unless you give up your partner'. Instead, his next words took her by surprise. "I'm not talking." He sounded quite resolute, too.

Completely thrown, she wondered if there was something Stroh could possibly be holding over Jimmy's head. Usually, it was his power as an attorney that intimidated his accomplices into loyalty, but he no longer had that leverage. She continued to mull that over as Morris incredulously asked, "You're ready to go to prison just to protect him?"

Jimmy shrugged, his earlier fear not fully dissipating, but he seemed much calmer all of a sudden. "He protects _me_ ," he said matter-of-factly.

The words almost magically planted a thought in Sharon's head. "He really _trusts_ him," she let out, amazed, not that anybody could hear her. She all but smacked the button to contact Morris. Grasping at straws really, she told him, "Show him those three other deaths." Since those deaths weren't classified as suspicious, much less as murders, they had not been in a rush to address them with Jimmy, but if her hunch was right, now was the best time to do so.

Morris listened, and started leafing through his folder again, but the slight hesitation Sharon noted in his movements let her know he did not quite understand the point of her instruction. She therefore addressed him again. "He trusts Stroh implicitly, but what if those deaths were Stroh's _private_ side project?"

Morris nodded ever so slightly in understanding, and started to spread the pictures of who they believed to be Stroh's additional victims, without hesitation now. "Do you recognize any of these people?" he asked Jimmy.

Sharon took Jimmy's sudden frown as a good sign. "Should I?" he asked.

"Is that a no?" Morris countered.

Jimmy nodded. "I don't know why you're showing those to me, I've never seen them in my life."

"Well, these two," Morris spread two fingers over the first and last photo, "were your friend's teachers, and this," a third finger pointed out the middle picture, "is his ex-girlfriend."

"So?" Jimmy asked, clearly not following.

"They were all found dead around the time three of your other," Morris put up air quotations marks around his next two words, "business ventures took place."

"What?" Incredulously, Jimmy shifted in his chair trying to get a better look at the photos. "He wouldn't," he exclaimed, his fingers flicking the photos forcefully away, "we have a deal." Under his breath, but neither Sharon nor Morris missed it, he disappointedly added, "Doing it _together_ was part of the thrill."

Sharon looked heavenward in relief, and clenched her fist in victory. They were still far from the confession they needed, but it would do for now. She needed to break Jimmy's trust in Stroh, his loyalty to him, and Morris just succeeded in doing so. Perhaps, they could now use that to their advantage. She turned the microphone on again, and said, "Agent Morris, may I have a quick word with you? There's an idea I'd like to run by you."

 **TBC**


	12. Chapter 12

What wonderful reviews on my last chapter! You guys are great!

As always, an enormous thank you to my partner in crime, the awesome MajorCFan, for all her help and support on this.

Enjoy the next chapter! :)

* * *

 **TAKE THE PLUNGE – CHAPTER 12**

Walking into the living room as she slipped her earrings on, Sharon found Andy sitting in the chair next to her couch, looking, or rather glaring, at her over the coffee table.

"Stop frowning," she told him, a slight edge to her words.

She had to suppress a laugh though, when in response, the lines on his brow only deepened. "My frowning should be the least of your concerns," he muttered.

By then, she had passed her couch and reached him. She sighed, as she came to a halt in front of him, and gave his chair a slight push to turn it toward her. "We've been over this," she told him exasperatedly, "and," she added pointedly, "we are past the point of no return now."

He lifted an eyebrow, and looked up at her, but his frown remained firmly in place. "I don't like playing sitting ducks."

It was not the first time he had told her this, or something to that effect; they really had been over this several times in the past 24 hours. Andy was a man of action, and his and her part in this plan they were about to start executing involved very little, if any, action. Sharon wasn't exactly happy with the plan either, albeit for slightly different reasons, even though she had a prominent role in tailoring it. Deciding not to reason with him, because she knew he was just more on edge about it now that it was finally happening, she simply expressed her own strongest qualm about it. "I don't like leaving Rusty out of my sight."

She held his heated glare with a calm look of her own. That he was not a fan of the plan had been duly noted, but the decision had been made. Whether they liked it or not, objectively, it was a _good_ plan, for the risk to any of them was as minimal as it could be. More importantly, neither one of them was in charge of it, so all they really could do now, was go along with it to the best of their ability. Andy knew as much, too, but clearly, unlike Sharon, needed one last opportunity to express his displeasure about the role he played in it, before being able to follow through with it. After a few moments, he finally sighed, and grumbled, "You look stunning."

His words took her by surprise, and a short burst of uncontrolled, almost nervous, laughter escaped her. She had expected at least one final complaint from him, not a compliment. She reached a hand out to his temple, and rubbed her thumb gently over his still furrowed brow. "You sure about that?" she asked teasingly.

Finally, his features relaxed a little, and he rolled his eyes at her. "Yeah," he said gruffly, running his hand appreciatively down her side. She was wearing a simple black sheath dress, with capped sleeves, that at tea length was a little longer than her usual dresses. "I'm irritated," he lifted his other hand to her hip, and applied gentle pressure to it until she heeded his silent request and moved to stand between his legs, "not blind," he clarified in an equally disgruntled manner. "Love the 'do, too," he grumbled, albeit more softly, as his eyes glanced over her hair. She had it up in a messy, but elegant bun, a couple of loose tendrils farming her face.

It drew another chuckle out of her. "Thank you," she told him, trailing her hand down the side of his face until she reached his shoulder. "You're not too bad yourself," she added, brushing away imaginary lint off his black suit jacket. "Although," her hand traveled to his collar, and she slipped a finger underneath the bow-tie wrapped around his neck, "I have mixed feelings about this odd thing."

He looked down the front of his white dress shirt, another frown on his face, a puzzled one this time, as if thinking that perhaps the bow stood crooked or wasn't tight enough. "What's wrong with it?"

She shrugged just as he looked up at her again. "It's not your usual tie," she quipped, flicking the bow almost dismissively before retracting her hand. "Although," she added thoughtfully, as she purposefully looked down the rest of his apparel, "I can't say I disagree with the vest."

"Huh," he let out in temporary surprise, before smirking and asking, "is that so?"

She shook her head at him in amusement. "Mhm," she hummed affirmatively. That planted a smug grin on his face. Knowing she was about to erase it, she leaned down to give him a brief kiss, before asking, "Ready to go?"

He sobered and took a deep breath, holding it in for a second before releasing it. "As ready as I can be, I guess."

That was good enough for her, since she was feeling much the same. She wrapped her hands around his forearms, and gave them a little squeeze. "Come on then, we don't want to be late."

He stood up, nodding, and together they made their way to the front door. Once they reached it, Andy paused long enough for her to collect her shawl and purse, before opening it. His outstretched arm blocked her path, however, when she attempted to walk out. "I know," he punctuated the word by briefly closing his eyes, "that there is very little that can go wrong with our part in this, but in case something does go wrong," he pinned her with a hard look, "promise me not to do anything stupid." The words were more of an order than a plea.

She smiled and gave him a look that said, 'Who here is more prone to doing stupid things?' but ultimately nodded. "If you will, too."

"Deal," he told her, sealing it with a quick kiss, before stepping aside to finally let her walk through the door.

They were headed to an upscale restaurant in Beverly Hills that was too expensive even for Sharon's new NFL funded pockets. They were set to have dinner with her boss, the commissioner, and his wife. Even though described as a friendly, unofficial get-together, it was glaringly obvious that it was anything but. First and foremost, the invitation carried very specific dress code instructions that were far more formal than what the restaurant usually required, making Sharon suspicious of journalists and photographers prowling about. It also all but insisted on a plus one, which in Sharon's case, naturally meant dragging Andy along. Simply put, the affair would be a parade of forced politeness and elegant theatrics. Its purpose to possibly put on a show for the public, while letting Sharon know how well or bad she had done her job at the NFL thus far, now that the football season was over. She did not exactly worry about her boss's review as they drove toward it, nor did she when it had been scheduled two months ago. Nevertheless, she was not looking forward to it, and neither was Andy.

Of course, when they first received the invitation, although it felt as more of a summons, they had agreed to grit their teeth and get it over with. After all, it wouldn't have been the first time they had to do something they much rather wouldn't. However, back then, they had no idea that their reluctance to attend would be intensified by what was bound to make the evening even less enjoyable – the knowledge that Phillip Stroh might be lurking in the shadows.

* * *

" _He's after that kid, too, you know. Rusty."_

Those had been the words that assured Sharon that Jimmy was sufficiently angry with Stroh, if not even hurt by him. They had come unexpectedly, after she had interrupted Morris for a quick word. She had only just returned to the FBI's electronics room, watching as Morris reclaimed his seat in the interrogation room, when Jimmy had blurted them out.

Not that she really needed further incentive, but those words had also made her all the more determined not to leave New York without finding a way of locating and catching Stroh, once and for all. In order to accomplish that, however, they needed Jimmy to cooperate a little more. She had told Morris as much, suggesting they try convincing him not just to turn on Stroh, but to also perhaps play a part in apprehending him.

" _Use him, Agent Morris," she told him in the hallway in front of the interrogation room Jimmy was in._

 _Morris frowned, folding his arms. Suddenly, his eyes went wide in realization, and he asked, "You want us to use him as bait?"_

 _Sharon folded her own arms and shrugged. "I think you should proceed with your interrogation while keeping that option in mind."_

 _Morris considered that for a moment. Finally, he unfolded his arms and asked, "You think he won't give up Stroh's location?"_

 _Sharon tilted her head from side to side. "Oh, I think that he would_ want _to, but," she paused long enough to decide on her next words, "he might not be_ able _to."_

 _Morris's eyebrows shot up. Clearly that had not occurred to him. "You think he might not know?"_

" _I wouldn't put it past Stroh," Sharon said in answer. "Whatever trust Jimmy thinks he and his partner have, you can rest assured that Stroh does not share that sentiment," she clarified. Almost conspiratorially, she added, "And if that_ is _the case and you_ were _to use Jimmy as bait, I would also make absolutely sure he did as you said."_

" _Threaten him?" Morris asked, unfolding his arms._

 _Sharon shook her head. "Find out as much as you can from him." She inclined her head to the side, and looked pointedly at Morris over the top of her glasses. "Then, if all else fails,_ encourage _him to do what's best for him."_

When Morris had begun digging for information, however, Jimmy had started to clam up. Despite obviously feeling betrayed by Stroh's 'private side project' as they dubbed it, he had ended up needing that encouragement _before_ spilling his guts.

" _We will put you behind bars, Jimmy," Morris told him. "You will be convicted of hacking, stalking, and aiding and abetting a fugitive in a heartbeat." He leaned threateningly forward in his chair. "And keep in mind that we will put you on trial for Amelia Page's death, too, and try our luck with a jury." Leaning back, he added, waving his hand through the air, "Question is, do you want to let your buddy walk around scot-free while you rot in jail, possibly on death row?"_

It had been a bluff, seeing as Jimmy's ties to the death of Amelia Page were circumstantial for the most part, and with Pennsylvania's current moratorium on the death penalty, death row was even more unlikely. However, that particular mention had finally rewarded them with Jimmy's full attention.

 _He swallowed hard. "Death row?" he choked out._

" _What do you think happens to rapist murderers?" Morris countered._

" _But it was his idea!" Jimmy exclaimed, banging his cuffed fists against the tabletop. "He came to me, needing money, said I owed him one, and then the next thing I know, he's proposing we have a little extra fun while he works on something."_

 _Morris perked up at that final piece of information, as did Sharon on the other side of the one-way mirror. "While he works on something?" he repeated quizzically._

" _Sharon Raydor and her kid!" Jimmy exclaimed, this time trying to throw his arms out, but failing miserably due to the handcuffs around his wrists._

" _What was he working on exactly?" Morris inquired calmly, but there was no missing how eager he was to hear the answer._

 _Jimmy however, suddenly said in fear, "Not talking unless you take the death penalty off the table."_

That had been it; their in with Jimmy. After that, with a few reassurances along the way, he had told them seemingly everything he knew. Sharon had been rather shocked to learn that it was the NFL's announcement of their new Chief of Security that had prompted Stroh's return to the country. Their suspicions that Sharon, and Rusty as well, were easier targets now that she no longer worked for the LAPD had been effectively confirmed further when Jimmy said that was precisely Stroh's reasoning.

" _But he only ever came to_ me _because he needed money," Jimmy said at one point._

" _You have money?" Morris asked, puzzled. "You haven't held down a job in years."_

 _Jimmy frowned. "Well, it's hard to keep a job when everybody sooner or later finds out I've been charged with sexual assault." He added his next words quite heatedly. "Despite the fact that Phillip got all charges dropped."_

 _Sharon's eyebrows shot up from where she was watching the interrogation. 'Phillip'. She wondered how close the two were to be on a first name basis, but she could also imagine this being yet another way Stroh probably manipulated Jimmy into helping him. Deciding not to linger much on that, she continued to listen as Morris steered the conversation back to his original question. "So you have money? Is that what those credit cards we found in your apartment were about?"_

 _Morris had opened his mouth to say more, but Jimmy interrupted. "Doesn't matter how I get my money, but yeah, I do have it. He just ran into some trouble on his way to the States, got stripped of his money, and knew about my," Jimmy paused, and raised an eyebrow before continuing, "creative ways of getting my hands on some, so he hit me up to cash in on the favors I owed him."_

 _Obviously deciding to bench the possible credit card fraud investigation, Morris asked Jimmy something Sharon had been asking herself for weeks now. "So once he got the money from you, why didn't he go to LA?"_

" _Oh, he did," Jimmy told him on a wide-eyed look. "Some Lieutenant scared him off though."_

 _That was news to Sharon, and judging by Morris's next question, it was to him as well. "He ran into a Lieutenant?" He clarified over a puzzled frown,, "From the LAPD?"_

 _Jimmy suddenly chuckled. "Oh, no, he did not run into him literally, but Phillip knew him, saw him with Sharon Raydor." He snickered. "Apparently the two are dating."_

 _Morris shot Sharon a surprised look through the mirror, whereas she found her breath catching in her throat. Unknowingly, she had put Andy into more danger than he was already in for simply wanting to protect Rusty and her._

 _Before Morris needed to prod Jimmy further, he added, "He told me he attacked some Deputy Chief once, trying to get to that kid." He shrugged. "That's what landed him in jail in the first place, so he decided not to risk attacking a police officer again. Or well," Jimmy frowned a little, "not two at the same time."_

And as it had turned out, at least not without planning more thoroughly ahead first.

Part of his planning had involved Jimmy hacking the NFL's database to get ahold of Sharon's schedule. Sharon's breath had caught further in her throat, when Jimmy also explained that they had been tracking Rusty's movements. Lucky for Rusty, he hadn't had much of a digital footprint, but they had found out about Gus, whose rather large digital footprint featured Rusty prominently. Why Stroh had not made a move against Rusty in Sharon's absence, Jimmy had been unable to tell them. Eventually though, they had graduated to following Sharon on her trips, and by the third trip they trailed her on, they had accidentally stumbled upon Amelia Page.

" _We saw her leaving some club alone one night," Jimmy said, shrugging. "I casually mentioned she was my type of girl," he tilted his head to the side, and suggestively added, "if you know what I mean." Before Morris could reply, he suddenly frowned. "The deal's on, right? I tell you this, and you won't execute me?"_

 _Morris's jaw clenched in disdain, but he nodded. "Deal's on, yes." He waved a hand through the air, urging Jimmy along. "What happened next?"_

 _Jimmy paused for a second, as if deciding whether Morris was telling the truth or not. Finally, he said in quite a bit of wonder, "Phillip just approached her. Chatted her up. Smoothly, too. And then," he sighed, "well, one thing led to another and," Jimmy trailed off, wiggling his fingers at the folder._

" _You raped, killed and stuffed her in a refrigerated storage unit," Morris listed off disgustedly._

 _To his credit, Jimmy actually seemed contrite for a moment. His face fell, and he mumbled, "Yeah."_

As already suspected, Stroh had been the brain behind the more intricate details of Amelia's death. He had been the one to insist on protection, lest they left any DNA behind. He had come up with the idea of how to dispose of her lifeless body, and what was more important, it was him who had ultimately strangled her to death. After their first, rather impulsive kill, they had started longing for more.

" _It was exhilarating," Jimmy said in awe, and it was their first true glimpse into his demented psyche. "And I could tell Phillip was having fun as well." He smiled to himself. "He got a real kick out of having done it under Sharon Raydor's nose, too." He leaned forward in his chair, and momentarily switched tracks. "You know, by that time, I was wanting to just get on with my life. I was going to give him as much money as he needed, keep him updated on those schedules, and just go home. I figured I'd paid my debt by then." He shrugged and leaned into the back of his chair again, a wistful look suddenly settling on his face. "But after that night," he shook his head, "he had me hooked. I wanted more, and when I told him as much, he was more than happy to oblige. Said part of the fun had been doing it with me anyway."_

That had been their deal from then on. The way Jimmy told it, it was more of a partnership, but knowing Stroh, Sharon was convinced it was his way of holding onto Jimmy and using him as much as he could, while also indulging in his sick hobby of torturing women. Jimmy had been the one to make sure they had enough money to get by, and that they were hot on Sharon's trail, while Stroh had made sure that their 'business ventures' couldn't be traced back to them. He had started planning ahead as well, finding storage units in which they'd dispose of their victims before they ever staked out nightclubs in search of women fitting their type. Stroh had even insisted on Jimmy picking out the women. For Jimmy it had been a perfect arrangement, as long as it was exclusive to just him and Stroh.

" _Where is Phillip Stroh right now?" Morris asked, after Jimmy had gone off on a long angry tangent about how betrayed by Stroh he now felt._

" _I don't know," Jimmy said, the shrug of his shoulders effectively marking his words as genuine._

 _Morris's eyes flickered to Sharon behind the one-way mirror. Yes, she had been right. "Aren't you here together?" Morris asked, frowning._

" _Yeah, but Sharon's leaving today, and so are we," Jimmy answered. "And we never leave together. Phillip said it's safer for us to travel alone and just meet up at our next destination."_

 _Sharon sighed at that. Of course, of all the times to be right about something, it would be now. Morris seemed just as annoyed. "So how do you meet up?" he asked impatiently._

" _Burner phone," Jimmy said simply. "The one you took from me," he added pointedly, making Morris roll his eyes. "We know roughly when each of us will arrive, so he calls me at a set time when he knows I've arrived, and we settle on a meeting spot then." He tilted his head to the side, and added in a somewhat hushed voice, "We don't even stay at the same place. He keeps saying it's good to be careful like that, but honestly, I think he's a little paranoid."_

 _Sharon was certain paranoia had nothing to do with it. It was typical, meticulous Stroh fashion to make sure to put as much distance between himself and his partner for precisely this situation; when one of them, most likely Jimmy, got caught._

" _So what's your next stop?" Morris asked, ignoring Jimmy's final comment._

 _Sharon's heart dropped at Jimmy's next words, but he said them on an amused grin. "Los Angeles."_

Jimmy had gone on to explain that he was supposed to be in LA by noon the next day at the latest, and that at 3 pm he was to receive a phone call from Stroh with further instructions. Jimmy could not tell them what exactly Stroh had planned, but he had been told that this time they would most definitely not be looking for their other business ventures, but would be focusing solely on Sharon and Rusty. Furthermore, this trip to LA would only be Stroh's second since returning to the country.

Sharon had instantly gone over her schedule mentally, trying to pinpoint when exactly Stroh might attempt to do something, but she had several, both formal and informal, meetings on the agenda, and Stroh could use any of them to make a move. Not knowing exactly what to do just then, she and Morris consulted briefly again, and decided that letting Jimmy go to do their bidding would definitely be the best course of action.

First, they had drawn up a legal document, binding Jimmy to do as ordered, and binding the FBI, and by extension the LAPD, not to execute him after he confessed to everything. The document also required that Jimmy share the locations of the five remaining women that had gone missing, that he agree to cloning his phone, Stroh's only mean of contacting him, and that he let covert police officers follow him around Los Angeles once the FBI escorted him there. Additionally, his phone would be equipped with a GPS tracker, and he was to keep it with him at all times. It was made abundantly clear to Jimmy that his deal would be immediately terminated should he even think about straying from even a single condition of his deal.

By 3 pm the next day, a lot of additional decisions had been made.

Officially, since Davis was, of course, sniffing around, Commander Mason had put the entire LAPD on high alert regarding Phillip Stroh. They could not make any public announcements, not wanting to risk tipping Stroh off, but there was nobody on the force who had not been told that the, until then, practically frozen lead on Stroh had suddenly become scalding hot. Another development had been finding the remaining victims. As promised, they had been where Jimmy said they'd be, and more importantly, the women could now definitively be linked to each other through their common manner of death and disposal sites, all of which were refrigerated storage units across country.

Sharon had the luck of having the next day off from work, so she had spent it at the PAB, her son in tow. Rusty had essentially been put under house arrest in the murder room, until Stroh phoned Jimmy. Afterwards, further decisions were to be made.

 _At 2:55pm on Friday, everybody involved in the Phillip Stroh case, including Commander Mason, Sharon and Rusty, were huddled together in the RACR room, eyes glued to the monitors showing the surveillance footage from the motel Jimmy had been put up in. Apart from mechanical eyes keeping track of Jimmy, Mason had issued half a dozen undercover police officers, under the supervision of one of his division's Lieutenants, to monitor the situation on site, on the off chance that Stroh himself made an unexpected appearance. In addition to that, they were monitoring Jimmy's phone, hoping to at least triangulate Stroh's approximate location once he called, since Jimmy had told them Stroh was paranoid enough to use a phone not equipped with GPS._

 _Right on the dot, at 3pm, Jimmy's phone went off._

" _Yeah?" he answered on the second ring._

 _For the first time in years, they heard Stroh's voice, finally confirming without a shadow of a doubt that their fugitive was indeed back in the country. "Meet me on the corner of Wilshire Boulevard and Rodeo Drive at 7pm tomorrow," he said, and hung up before Jimmy could even respond, much less anyone could start tracing Stroh's whereabouts._

" _That's how it always goes," Jimmy told the officer in his room, shrugging as he pocketed the phone._

 _Provenza, who had been standing to the left of Buzz at his usual control post, looked at Sharon and Andy, standing to Buzz's right. "They're meeting in Beverly Hills? On a Saturday night?" He frowned and glanced at the rest of the room's occupants. "Isn't that a bit too out in the open?"_

 _Sharon and Andy exchanged a worried look. "Dinner with the NFL commissioner," they said in unison._

" _Ye Gods," Provenza let out, a mixture of disgust and shock on his face. "You're becoming telepathic."_

 _Andy rolled his eyes at him, while the rest of the room exchanged quiet snickers or discreet smiles, but before he could offer what would most likely be a smartass retort, Sharon pointedly clarified, "I have a business dinner with the commissioner and his wife there." Shrugging a shoulder awkwardly, she added, "Andy's my plus one."_

" _At 6:30pm," Andy added._

 _That seemed to bring Provenza back on track. "Ah," he said, his eyebrows lifting. He turned to Mason, the man officially in charge, and asked, "So what do you suggest we do now?"_

Mason's suggestion had depended heavily on the team's input. It had also relied on Sharon's input, which for the most part consisted of her voicing her suspicions about the discrepancies in what seemed to be Stroh's course of action.

What made her wary of Stroh the most, was the fact that he was involving Jimmy in whatever scheme he had planned, seemingly without preparing him for it beforehand. Assuming that Stroh at least suspected Jimmy could be caught at any given moment, and could possibly spill his guts, she took everything Jimmy told them with a grain of salt. If she operated under that assumption, there were two questions they needed to take into account.

" _Does Jimmy already know the plan, and is_ he _using_ us _here?" she asked the room. "Or is Stroh using Jimmy, and thereby playing us as well?"_

" _You're assuming Stroh might not show up?" Mason asked her, considering her questions with a slightly furrowed brow._

" _No," Andy answered, straightening as he locked his hands behind his back. "She's saying we probably have more bases to cover than just that street corner."_

 _Mason nodded, his features softening at the realization. "Like Rusty."_

 _Sharon's eyes flickered to the young man in question. He had been standing to the left of them, in front of the doors, silently watching the plans about his and her safety being made. He nodded reassuringly at her, as if to tell her not to worry, and she addressed Mason again, neither confirming nor denying his conclusion. "Jimmy had told us that the reason why Stroh hadn't come after me, or Rusty, was because Andy," she put a hand on his arm for a moment, "an active LAPD officer, scared him off."_

 _Mason's eyes widened in understanding, but it was Julio who voiced her underlying thought. He was standing next to Rusty, being his silent guard even though he was perfectly safe at the moment. "What changed for Stroh to no longer worry about Lieutenant Flynn?"_

 _Sharon put a finger up and pointed it at Julio. "That is the million dollar question."_

 _He smirked a little, and bowed his head in acknowledgement, but Mason narrowed his eyes at Sharon, and said, "That sounds to me like you have something particular in mind."_

* * *

That particular something was what had them entering the fancy restaurant, just as they had planned two months prior, despite the threat of Stroh, and five minutes ahead of schedule at that. It had been a bit challenging to have the manager agree to the LAPD's presence, but ultimately he did, and the place was now crawling with undercover officers, none of which were faces Stroh knew.

Not telling the commissioner what was going on had been a difficult decision to make. Not because they believed he wouldn't want to help. Sharon had her fair share of differences with the man, but even when he didn't like it, like that Thursday just two days ago when she abruptly took off from work to watch Jimmy's interrogation, he had been understanding, or as understanding as a money driven businessman could be. No, the decision to keep him in the dark was in order to protect him, and in a way everybody else. One might call it paranoia, but their experience with Stroh told them he could read people very well, and should he, as announced, be there that night, watching them, waiting for the right moment to make his move, they did not want the commissioner's or his wife's potential nervousness to make Stroh suspicious in any way.

Security was tight. Even if Stroh walked right into the restaurant, there were enough officers to spot him long before he would be able to approach them. Hopefully though, it wouldn't come to that, and he would be apprehended down the street at the corner he asked Jimmy to meet him on.

As suspected, the dinner was in part a publicity stunt, and it had been a good thing that Sharon alerted the team to that suspicion. She and Andy had barely made it to the table where the commissioner and his wife were already waiting for them, when a couple of photographers approached and snapped a few fake candid photos of them. Unable to deny that he was the one who hired them just for this occasion, the commissioner shrugged, and aloofly said, "You know how it goes."

Sharon did know how it went, even if she did not particularly approve of it, so she merely smiled politely in return, and let what both she and Andy knew would be a tedious farce commence.

Their food had just arrived, and they were well past the usual introductory niceties, when, barely a minute after 7pm, Oderno, in the guise of a fellow dining guest, approached their table.

Both Sharon and Andy tensed up, knowing he was carrying either good or bad news. "Excuse me," he told all four occupants of the table, before singling out Andy. "Are you Andrew Flynn?" Not waiting for an answer, he extended a hand, holding out a wallet, "I believe you dropped this. I looked inside, it seems to be yours."

Andy patted the jacket pocket his wallet was seemingly supposed to be in. Feigning shocked surprise, he said, "Oh, my God, I didn't even notice it was gone." He reached for the offered wallet, and opened it. "Yeah," he said checking out the ID, "that's definitely mine." He looked up at Oderno. "Thanks, would have been a pain to have to get all my cards replaced."

"Not a problem, Sir," Oderno said, giving him a curt nod. "Glad I could help," he added. "I just hope nothing's missing."

That had been the real cue. If money was missing from his wallet, it would mean Stroh had shown up, and Andy would have an excuse to cut the dinner short. If all money was still there, it would mean Stroh had been a no-show.

"No," Andy said, inspecting his wallet, "everything seems to be here." He had tried to speak in a relieved manner, and to the untrained ear he sounded relieved, too, but Sharon knew otherwise. He was just as disappointed, and worried all over again, as she was. "Thanks," Andy added on a faint smile.

Oderno gave him a smile that Sharon thought was disappointed as well, and said,"Nothing to thank me for, Sir." He waved a hand to a random table in the restaurant. "My table awaits, so," he threw a glance at the rest of Andy's company, "glad I could save your cards," he added jokingly.

They all chuckled, although it was a forced chuckle on Andy's and Sharon's part. "Thanks again," Andy told Oderno, before he made his retreat.

They wished they could just drop the act, find out exactly what had happened, and come clean to the commissioner, but there was still the slight possibility that Stroh was watching them. Therefore, after wasting a few more words on Andy's wallet mishap, they continued their dinner as if the interruption never happened.

Another half hour passed when Andy's phone suddenly rang. Along with Sharon, he tensed up again. He divested himself of the napkin draped across his lap, reaching for his phone as he stood. "Excuse me," he told the couple sitting opposite of him and Sharon, waving his phone at them, "but, unfortunately, I'm on call tonight." With that, he squeezed Sharon's shoulder and quickly walked away to answer his phone.

Sharon, growing increasingly more worried the longer it took Andy to return, was left behind to continue listening to the commissioner as he droned on on how pleased he was with her work at the NFL so far.

When Andy finally returned, he dropped the act, and addressed Sharon without much preamble, a stony expression on his face. "Julio just called," and although he immediately went on, just the mention of Julio, who was in charge of watching over Rusty, had her heart drop into her stomach, "they've got him."

 **TBC**


	13. Chapter 13

Oh, I just loved your response to my previous chapter! Thank you very much!

I would again like to take a moment to thank MajorCFan, too, for her continuous support on this.

Let's see what happened on Rusty's end of the operation, shall we?

* * *

 **TAKE THE PLUNGE – CHAPTER 13**

 _The memory of the close call Rusty experienced the last time he had participated in a police action kept him constantly on edge that Saturday. He had been partially to blame for the unfortunate turn that action had taken, and he had no intentions of doing anything that would go against the strict instructions he was given this time, but he still felt almost just as apprehensive as he had back then._

 _It wasn't as if he really had to do all that much. For the most part, he was to go about his day as planned before they found out Stroh was back in town, the only difference being that it felt like half the LAPD would know what he was doing, where, when and with whom._

 _The fact that that particular day mostly consisted of being cooped up in the condo should have helped Rusty's nerves, but it didn't. He would truly start playing his role as bait around 3pm, when he was set to go out and pick up Gus for a late lunch together, before he went into work for his evening shift. The wait alone was agonizing, but it was the fact that Gus was roped into the plan that really added to his nervousness. It didn't sit well with him. Sharon wasn't exactly thrilled with it either, but they had little say in the matter when Gus himself volunteered, and pointed out that his military background probably made him more suitable for the job than Rusty._

 _Rusty tried to take comfort in the fact that odds were Gus would be at work by the time Stroh decided to make his move, or even better, he never would go after Rusty at all, but would instead show up at his meeting place with Jimmy where another trap was set for him. However, he already felt culpable enough for having put Sharon and Andy in danger. Putting Gus in the same situation only added to that guilt._

 _It also didn't help that he ended up spending that wait with Sharon and Andy, who spent most of their day in the condo as well. That gave them the opportunity to go over the specifics of the plan with Rusty as many times as they felt necessary. Necessary, Rusty found to be a relative term, and by the third time Sharon insisted on repeating it, he thought they were doing it for her peace of mind rather than his._

 _While he had not cancelled his plans with Gus, he was to go about them the way the LAPD, or rather Julio, who was in charge of his protection, wanted him to. From the moment he left the condo, his entire route was carefully plotted out. The table in the restaurant he and Gus would be eating at had been picked out, and he was even given precise instructions as to where to park his car at any of the locations he would be making stops. It sounded all very complicated, and unlike last time, Rusty only had a day to prepare for this undercover operation. At first he worried about how he would manage to keep track of everything, but Mike had programmed the course into his GPS so that all he would have to do was follow its directions._

 _As far as the actual protective detail was concerned, that involved police officers on several fronts. The condo building was swarming with them, but none of them were wearing uniforms or outright standing guard. Instead some of them busied themselves with fake repairs near the entrances of the building, while others patrolled the inside, roaming the hallways and staircases periodically. While not all areas were covered at all times, none of them were left unattended for too long either. If Rusty hadn't seen their faces before the start of the operation, and if he didn't know what exactly they were all doing there, he would have mistaken them for workers or residents, so he took comfort in thinking Stroh would, too._

 _A lucky, convenient discovery found the condo right below Sharon's vacant, and Mike, who had been in charge of the officers involved at the condominium, had set up surveillance and was overseeing all sound and video being recorded. That particular location was also the only thing that would have Rusty stray from his usual plans for the day. Assuming they did not find Stroh while Rusty roamed the city seemingly freely and unprotected, that was where he was to go once he returned home. They would also pull back the undercover officers and rely solely on the feed of a few strategically placed cameras_ _–_ _one on Sharon's condo's floor, and one facing each entrance to the building. It was probably the riskiest part of their plan in terms of being fast enough to apprehend Stroh should he appear, but by the time Rusty returned, at 6 or 7pm, it might seem suspicious to have that many people roaming the building._

 _Julio, along with Amy, would be on Rusty's personal detail, following him around at all times at a safe, inconspicuous distance. Along Rusty's route there were checkpoints, as Julio called them, where additional undercover officers were posted, and they would be keeping an eye out for anything suspicious, but most of all Stroh. All in all, without anyone but those in the loop being able to notice, Rusty was as protected as he could be. Hopefully, if Stroh really was on his trail rather than Sharon and Andy's, he wouldn't notice either._

 _Because of all those measures, despite feeling nervous, Rusty felt overall confident that no matter what Stroh did, if anything at all, they would all be safe. However, when Sharon wrapped her arms around him before he headed out, he found himself hugging her back just a tad more tightly than usual, needing what little final reassurance she could offer more than he realized. He wasn't even annoyed by the fact that as they walked him to the door, she and Andy repeatedly reminded him to be safe, stick to the plan, and to reach out to Julio the second he suspected something was off. Even Andy's supportive pat on his back as he finally stepped out of the condo felt oddly comforting._

 _Rusty wondered if Provenza had timed his text just as he reached the garage by accident, or if perhaps Julio, Sharon or Andy had let him know he was on the move. Either way, it made him laugh. "Your mother will have our asses if you do something stupid, so behave!"_

 _In reality, the text was as close to a 'Be safe, we've got your back,' as he would probably ever get from him, so Rusty appreciated it even as he attached an emoji rolling his eyes to the end of his promise that he would._

 _His drive over to Gus's, as well as to the restaurant, passed by uneventfully. Lunch passed much the same way. From what Rusty could tell, he wasn't followed by anyone other than his protection detail. It was only after he dropped Gus off at work, and pointed his car back to the condo, that he started getting the feeling that perhaps there was a set of unwanted eyes on him. He would have liked to pause and look around, but his instructions were clear in saying he was not to actively look for signs of Stroh. Be aware of his surroundings and report anything suspicious, yes, but scan his surroundings in a purposeful search of anything suspicious, no. So he did the former, and said out loud, knowing Julio could hear him thanks to the wire he was wearing, "You sure he's not here? Something feels off."_

 _He knew it could be simple paranoia, the nerve-wracking day finally catching up with him, but they told him to share any hunches he perhaps had. Not so much because they might be correct, but in order to have a constant window into his state of mind. As expected, within a few seconds, Rusty's phone rang. He had flopped it down on the passenger seat once Gus was out of the car, so only needed to reach over and put it on speakerphone once he picked up. "Yeah?"_

" _No sign of him," Julio's voice said. "Just keep on driving home. If nothing changes, you know the plan."_

" _Go to Lieutenant Tao," Rusty said._

" _Exactly," Julio confirmed. "Sykes and I will catch up with you. You'll be able to relax once we get you there, okay?"_

 _Rusty doubted he was close to relaxing any time soon, but mumbled back, "Okay." With that the call disconnected, and he was left to drive the rest of the way in silence._

 _It was past 6pm by the time he finally drove into the parking garage. Nobody had followed him inside, but it was hard to ignore the hollow, anxious feeling that settled low in his gut when he got out of his car. Stroh had a knack for getting past security, and Rusty wouldn't put it past him to have somehow managed to slip under the LAPD's radar and gain access to the garage unnoticed. That thought had Rusty take to the elevator at a brisk pace._

 _Once inside, he punched the button for Mike's floor slightly more forcefully than intended, then slumped against the wall of the elevator. As it jolted upwards, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, grateful that he had successfully put behind this part of his day. He tried to remember if he had felt quite this anxious the last time he was in this situation, but all that flooded his memory was the image of Wade Weller wielding his knife at him. It was easy to picture Stroh doing the same, and once he did, it was nearly impossible to shake the resulting fear off. He snapped out of his thoughts when he felt the elevator come to a stop. By the time he opened his eyes, the doors were sliding to the sides as well, and he stiffened and pressed his back further into the wall when they started revealing a form behind them._

" _Rusty."_

 _He let out a relieved sigh, and relaxed. "Lieutenant Tao."_

 _Mike gave him an encouraging smile. "You did great, Rusty." Ignoring Rusty's sceptical look, he waved a hand, beckoning him out of the elevator. "Come on, let's get to the apartment. Julio and Amy should be here in a few minutes, too."_

 _Trying to shake off his dreadful thoughts, Rusty simply nodded, and quietly followed._

 _The layout of the LAPD's temporary base of operation matched the layout of Sharon's condo, but it was only furnished with what little the LAPD needed for their setup. In the middle of the living room there was a big desk, monitors and a laptop on top of it, and a few chairs placed around it. On another, smaller table closer to the balcony, there was leftover take out food and drinks, proving that Mike had been there the entire day._

" _The Captain and Andy are on their way to their dinner," Mike informed him, sitting down on one of the chairs at the big desk._

 _Rusty followed him, nodding politely at an officer also seated there, and took the seat to Mike's other side. "You think he'll show up?"_

 _Mike shrugged. "I hope so, but," he looked at Rusty pointedly, "your mother does tend to be right about these things."_

 _Rusty frowned, his focus on the monitor showing the feed of the only cameras left turned on. "But if she's right, and he followed me around, but did nothing," he refocused on Mike, "don't you think it could also mean he made my protection detail?"_

 _Mike ran a hand over his head, a sure sign that he was more tired than he cared to admit. "It could," he agreed. "But maybe he's just waiting for the clock to strike 7."_

 _Rusty sighed, and leaned heavily into the back of his chair. "Maybe." He was a lot less optimistic than Mike._

 _A few minutes later Julio and Amy arrived. By way of greeting, Julio sarcastically said, "Let's hope if he's watching, he didn't see us."_

 _Shooting Julio a somewhat alarmed look, Amy told Rusty reassuringly, "You're safe."_

 _Rusty chuckled mirthlessly. "Sure."_

 _Amy took a seat next to them while Julio pulled up a chair behind them. "The feed still not live?" he asked Mike._

 _Rusty gave Julio a puzzled look. "What feed?"_

 _Mike answered. "Jimmy and his rendezvous with Stroh." Turning his head toward Julio, he indicated the only monitor whose screen was black. "You'll see it when I do."_

 _Just as he said that, the black screen lit up to show four different video feeds. Two were of the corner Jimmy and Stroh were supposedly meeting at. Random people and cars were moving in and out of the frames, but otherwise nothing suspicious seemed to be going on. The other two feeds were of the restaurant's two entrances. While they saw nothing important happening at the side entrance, they saw Sharon and Andy entering the restaurant through the main one._

" _Fingers crossed," Amy mumbled at the sight of them._

 _They all nodded, thinking the same._

" _I guess you'd rather be there," Rusty told them._

" _We'll see," Julio said ominously._

 _So they sat back and watched. For half an hour, nothing of note happened either in the building they were in, or at the restaurant. A little before 7, however, finally there was movement._

" _There's Jimmy," Rusty said, pointing a finger at one of the frames showing the street corner._

" _No sign of Stroh," Amy said, sounding a little anxious._

" _Yet," Mike said optimistically, although there was a slightly questioning lilt to the word._

" _Who's that?" Julio asked, when at precisely 7 o'clock, a young man, possibly in his 20s, approached Jimmy. He proceeded to hand him something but it was hard to make out what._

" _Doesn't look good," Mike commented, watching the scene with a slight frown on his face._

 _The young man did not linger, but walked away the moment Jimmy took it. With the possibility of Stroh being in the vicinity anyway, they all knew nobody could be instantly sent to go after him._

 _When Jimmy started fumbling with the object, they realized it was an envelope. A few moments later he opened it. They couldn't hear what he seemed to be saying, only the team on that end of the feed had access to sound, but he was obviously reading aloud the note he found inside of it._

" _What does it say?" Rusty asked, alarmed. "Where is Stroh?"_

" _Wait, they'll call us as soon as they can," Mike told him, glancing at the feed of their own surveillance cameras. There was no suspicious movement there._

 _Soon enough, his phone started ringing. "It's the Chief," he said before answering and putting the call on speakerphone. "Yes, Chief Howard, what happened?"_

 _Howard sounded angry. "The son of a bitch sent a note saying, 'Sorry, change of plans.'" He scoffed. "Stroh never intended to show in the first place."_

" _Do Andy and the Captain know?" Mike asked, exchanging disappointed looks with his colleagues and Rusty._

" _They're about to," Howard answered. "You guys be careful. We don't know what he means by this, but," he trailed off._

" _The change might have something to do with Rusty," Julio finished for him, looking intently at the young man in question, making him squirm uncomfortably in his chair._

" _Yeah, he might have made us," Howard said on a sigh. "We're trying to catch up with the messenger, and we'll still keep an eye on Sharon and Andy, but I doubt anything will come of it."_

 _He seemed ready to end the call, so Mike said, "Call us if something happens, Chief."_

" _You, too," Howard replied and hung up._

 _They all sat in silence for a few moments, both shocked and disappointed. Rusty ultimately lifted it. "Change of plans?"_

" _No idea," Mike said sadly._

 _Julio suddenly jumped to his feet. "There's our idea," he muttered, already on his way out._

 _Amy was the first to realize what got his attention. "There," she pointed a finger at the feed of the hidden camera they set up at the building's main entrance. Saying nothing else, she took to her own feet and followed Julio. The officer Rusty didn't know did the same._

" _Stay," Mike said, reaching his arm out in front of Rusty, who on instinct started to get up. "Remember, it's you he's after."_

 _Rusty looked at the screen with wide eyes. "How can you tell it's him?" he asked, although his gut practically screamed at him that it was._

 _The feed showed a slightly hunched man, walking through the entrance. He paused there, looking around slowly. Rusty guessed if he were to straighten he might be about Stroh's height, but it was impossible to make out anything else. His face was hidden by a black baseball cap on his head. Rusty couldn't even guess his weight, for he wore a long, oversized coat that hid his form well. He also wore a backpack, and in the few seconds Rusty kept his eyes glued to him, he had hooked his thumbs to its straps, and adjusted his hold on them, until turning purposefully toward the elevator, his head bowed at an angle that still made it impossible to make out his features._

 _Mike watched the scene with narrowed eyes. "Oh, it is," he said grimly, then turned his head toward Rusty. "Told you your mother tends to be right about these things."_

 _He sounded impressed, if not even excited, but Rusty only felt anxious. Julio and Amy were nowhere to be seen, and Stroh stepped onto the elevator without anyone trying to stop him._

" _Why isn't anyone going after him?" Rusty asked, bewildered. He shot Mike an incredulous look. "You're just letting him get on that elevator!"_

" _We know where he's going," Mike said confidently. "That's where Amy and Julio will be waiting for him."_

 _Soon enough, the two detectives and the officer, entered the field of view of the camera on Sharon's floor. Julio walked toward the elevator, while Amy and the officer remained at the door that led to the stairwell. When Julio cocked his gun and leaned against the wall next to the elevator, Rusty shot Mike an alarmed look. "What if someone else gets on that elevator?"_

" _Backup is on the way," he said, not exactly answering Rusty's question, but he could guess that would mean another gun pointed at Stroh in case a misfortunate soul stepped on the elevator with him and became his hostage. "But let's hope nobody does," Mike added, "or Stroh switches to the stairs."_

 _For a few painfully long moments, they simply stared at the screen in silence and hoped for the best. Two more officers joined Julio, having taken the stairs like him and Amy. Together the three took position in front of the elevator and pointed their guns at it._

 _The officers apparently had microphones on them, and they must have switched them on, because when the elevator arrived, the sound of the familiar ding as the doors opened flittered through the monitor's speakers._

" _Hands up!" Julio barked, then taking a step backwards, beckoned the elevator's single occupant outside with a tilt of his head. "Step out slowly, or I will shoot you."_

 _Chills ran down Rusty's spine at the sound of the all too familiar voice. "Surely you wouldn't shoot an unarmed man, Detective," Stroh replied, but did as ordered. He stepped out, standing straight at his full height, and when he lifted his head Rusty finally saw his face, too. By that time, Amy and her backup approached them as well._

" _Oh, God," Rusty said on a huge sigh of relief. "We've got him," he added incredulously._

 _Mike smiled. "We do," he said, listening to Julio's response at the same time._

" _Try me," he bit out, but Stroh knew better than to push his luck. Julio exchanged a quick look with his backup, and when they nodded, he holstered his weapon and reached for his handcuffs. With much more force than necessary, he took one of Stroh's raised hands, and twisting it behind his back, turned him. He shoved him face forward against the now closed elevator doors, and yanked the backpack off his shoulders. After giving it to Amy, he reached for Stroh's other hand, and cuffed him. "Phillip Stroh, welcome back to LA," Julio said sarcastically, then forcefully tightened the handcuffs and forced Stroh to face him again._

 _As Julio proceeded to frisk him, and read him his rights along a long list of charges, Mike turned to look at Rusty, who seemed a little shell-shocked. "You okay?"_

 _Rusty tore his gaze away from the screen, and blinked a few times at Mike. "That's it?" he asked, sounding relieved, but also a little underwhelmed._

 _Mike chuckled. "Yeah, Rusty, that's it." He tilted his head to the side. "I'm sure Julio will be disappointed he couldn't shoot him, but," he finished with a shrug._

 _Finally, Rusty laughed as well. "Yeah, I'm a little disappointed myself." The second the words were out his eyes went wide, and he quickly added, "Don't tell Mom I said that."_

 _Mike laughed. "I'm not sure she'd really disagree," he told him knowingly._

 _Rusty grinned, suddenly able to actually picture that. "Now what?"_

 _Mike got to his feet and took a breath. "Now we pack up here, and take care of him." He pointed his chin at the monitor where they could still see Stroh. Amy was in the middle of fishing out a knife and what looked like a lockpicking set out of his backpack. He looked back at Rusty. "Julio's got to call Andy, and I," he took his phone that was on the desk, "have to call the Chief."_

" _And then we head back to the PAB?" Rusty asked._

" _And we meet up with the rest of the team," Mike answered on a nod._

Sharon quickened her pace when she laid eyes on him. He was standing in front of her former office, his back turned to her as he talked to Julio.

"Rusty," she let out breathlessly, and he was able only to turn around at the sound of her voice before she wrapped her arms around him.

Although not quite as enthusiastically as Sharon, Rusty returned the embrace, a slightly exasperated, "I'm fine, Mom," on his lips.

Sharon gave him one more tight squeeze before pulling away. She knew as much.

After Julio called, she and Andy had quickly explained to the commissioner and his wife what was going on, apologized for cutting the dinner short, and promised to offer further details when they had them. Once they met part of the team outside of the restaurant, that Rusty was alright had been the first thing Provenza assured her of. However, hearing it second-hand, and seeing so for herself were two entirely different things. It was easy to clamp down on her worry for Rusty while she was in the midst of doing something to protect him. Now that the entire ordeal was practically over, the incredible relief she felt at seeing him well, and most importantly, safer than he had been in years, reminded her of just how big a weight she had been carrying not just for that evening, but for weeks now.

"Not a scratch on him, Ma'am," Julio added, smirking at her from behind Rusty.

Sharon smiled, as she affectionately ran her hand down the side of Rusty's arm. "As promised," she told Julio, giving him a grateful nod.

His smirk widened, and he nodded as well. "As promised," he confirmed solemnly.

 _Sharon sighed, as they stood in the murder room, where they had moved to more thoroughly hash out just what their plan the next evening would entail. "Let me think about it," she told them all, but Rusty in particular._

 _Her son no longer needed her consent. Being of age for years now, he was free to make these decisions for himself, yet, he wouldn't set his mind on this unless she gave him her blessing._

 _Having said the words, she started walking toward the break room. Andy made a move to follow her, but she shook her head, quietly asking for a moment to herself. Already lost in her thoughts, trying to wrap her head around what, in no small part thanks to her, the team had come up with, she had not noticed that Julio decided to follow her anyway. She also failed to notice he had purposefully ignored Andy's unmistakable frown of warning when he did so._

 _Only when she slumped into a chair at one of the tables in the break room, and when she heard the soft click of the door opening only moments after she had closed it, did she notice him._

 _She shouldn't have been surprised that of all her former colleagues, he would disobey, not that she had any right to order any of them around anymore, but she was. She had forgotten how protective he could get when it came to Rusty, much like Provenza._ _What had slipped her mind even more was the fact that he could be just as protective of her. Not counting Andy, she was reminded of the fact that all of Major Crimes could._ _She had more than once wondered when exactly that turning point occurred. She knew Rusty had unintentionally played an important role in that, but in all her years of heading their division, she was never quite able to pinpoint the exact moment when any of them decided to have and watch her back no matter what._

 _She smiled tiredly at Julio who merely closed the door behind him again and, as he often did, clasped his hands together behind his back_ _, looking_ _at her_ _with_ _a serious, quite determined expression on his face._

 _As he also often did, he opened his mouth and went straight to the point. "Short of locking him up for the foreseeable future, Ma'am, this is the best course of action."_

 _It was also a very familiar course of action. One that could have easily cost Rusty his life back then. "I know," she told him._

 _Julio shifted on the spot. "Then, if you don't mind me asking," he spoke slowly, "what's there to think about anymore?"_

" _You know what happened the last time I agreed to using Rusty as bait," she decided to say in response._

 _Julio's brow creased a little, and he took a moment before replying. "Only last time, Rusty would have gone through with it whether you agreed to it or not, Ma'am."_

 _Considering that, Sharon dropped her gaze to the floor, unable to help the small proud smile that briefly curved her lips upward. Julio was making a good point. Rusty was itching to make himself useful now, just as he had back then. This time, however, he wasn't pushing for it. This time, when he finally could legally really do as he pleased, he was waiting for her to okay it._

 _Misinterpreting Sharon's prolonged silence as further hesitation, Julio added, "He also won't be hanging out with Wade Weller this time." When Sharon refocused her gaze on him, he shrugged and said, "He'll be hanging out with me."_

 _Her earlier smile widened, turned more affectionate. "Would you believe me if I said that actually made me feel better?"_

 _Julio's look turned smug. "As a matter of fact, Ma'am, I would."_

 _That had her full out laugh at him, and she stood, her mind made up now. "I really do miss this place sometimes," she commented, walking toward the door Julio instantly opened for her when he read her intentions._

 _He chuckled quietly, and fell into step with her as they walked down the hall. "We miss you, too, Ma'am," he told her. Lowering his voice, he added, "Especially Captain Provenza."_

 _She laughed softly. "Only because he hates the additional paperwork."_

 _Julio tilted his head to the side and raised a single eyebrow, thinking about that. "Still," he decided._

 _That had her shake her head at him in amusement. "Thank you, Julio," she told him more seriously._

 _He sobered as well. "I promise, I won't let anything happen to Rusty, Ma'am," he told her, correctly guessing what she was thanking him for._

 _She nodded. "I know," she said confidently, just as they stepped back into the murder room._

Sharon turned to face the rest of the team. The four men who she had ridden the elevator up with, Andy, Howard, Morris and Provenza, had caught up with her and had walked further into the room toward the murder board. She found Mason standing there as well. She noted a few absences; Oderno, who she knew was busy escorting Jimmy back into an interrogation room. Amy, Mike and Buzz were missing, too, but before she was able to ask, although she could guess where they were herself, Mason addressed her, inviting her to approach the board with the wave of a hand.

"Lieutenant Tao and Detective Sykes are with Stroh in the interview room," he told her, hooking a finger in their general direction. "Buzz is-"

"In the electronics room," Sharon quite kindly finished the sentence for him.

He nodded. "He did not lawyer up," he informed her. "But he refuses to talk to any of us, unless," he hesitated only long enough to glance over the room, before settling on Sharon again, "it's you."

Sharon's eyebrows lifted in surprise. She had braced herself for Rusty to be Stroh's focus of interest. This, she had not expected.

Andy beat her to a response. Visibly alarmed, but clearly knowing better than to decide for her, he turned to her and asked, "Are you considering it?"

She looked at Mason, however. "Depends on whether you are."

He suddenly smiled, rather guiltily at that. "I probably shouldn't," he told her, and waved a hand to elaborate, "with you being a civilian and all, but I am."

To Sharon's surprise, Provenza was first to openly object. "Captain," he spoke seriously, in a no nonsense kind of way, as he waved a hand toward the interview room Stroh was being held in, "we have him. He can say whatever he wants now, but it will not change the fact that he's heading to the safest prison we can think of until he's-"

"Executed," Andy interjected, the scowl on his face saying he more than agreed with his boss. "Why grant Stroh his wish and give him his sick satisfaction out of talking to you?" he asked Sharon.

Sharon shrugged. "Because we have questions only he can answer."

They all exchanged looks that said she made a valid point. Julio, however, underlined Provenza's objection further. "We don't _need_ any more answers, Ma'am."

Sharon turned around to look at him. She responded slowly. "True, but I for one," she turned back to the rest of her company, "would _like_ more answers." The look she ended her sentence on all but dared them to claim otherwise.

Andy folded his arms across his chest and shot Sharon an irritated look. "You only want to see if you were right," he accused, "or if we were just lucky."

Everyone, but Sharon and Rusty threw Andy a startled look, not having expected the small outburst. Rusty chuckled at the sight, however, and told them, "It's true, she probably does."

Not missing a beat, and clearly not in the least put out by their accusations, Sharon pointedly raised an eyebrow at Andy and said, "Considering Stroh did not show up as arranged, but followed Rusty, I think we can already confirm I was fairly right." The corner of her mouth twitched upwards, revealing she was rather satisfied by that fact, and she added, "However, you're right, too, Andy." She looked at Mason, ignoring Andy's surprised expression. "I would indeed like to find out how much of this we owe to luck as well."

Mason narrowed his eyes at her, regarding her for a long moment. "Okay then, I will let you talk to him," he finally decided. "Do you mind letting Lieutenant Tao or Detective Sykes sit in with you?" He waved his hand in a circular motion and clarified. "Like I said, you're a civilian now, so-"

"Liability issues," Sharon finished for him knowingly.

He shrugged. "Yeah."

Sharon smiled. "Of course I don't mind," she assured him, "however, may I take someone else with me?" Andy instantly perked up, apparently more than happy to be that someone else, but he frowned when she glanced at Provenza, and added, "You perhaps, Captain?"

Surprised by the request, Provenza looked at Andy in confusion. He also quickly sought out Mason, who nodded, clearly okay with whomever she took, as long as she didn't go alone, and said, "If you're sure?"

"Yes, I am," she confirmed confidently, then turned to Andy. She assumed he'd be displeased with her choice, and that he probably wouldn't have immediately thought of why she made that choice. "Stroh would try to push your buttons," she told him. "And while he wouldn't succeed," she added, although the way she narrowed her eyes at Andy said she wasn't completely certain of that, "letting him even try is one satisfaction I would not like to give him."

When his eyebrows lifted in realization, she knew her assumptions had been correct. "I know," he said on a curt nod.

"Shall we then?" Mason asked, making a short swooping gesture for Sharon and Provenza.

* * *

Everybody huddled together in the electronics room, eyes glued to the screen as Sharon and Provenza took a seat opposite of Stroh. Andy, who had been standing right behind Buzz and Mason with his arms folded across his chest, mumbled, "Showtime."

"We're not getting a confession out of him," Mike said pessimistically.

Howard had a slightly more optimistic view. "He's bound to say something." His focus was on the goings-on on the screens. When Stroh looked like he was about to speak, he absentmindedly gestured a hand at Mike as if to silence him before he could offer a response.

"It's good to see you again, Captain Raydor. Or," Stroh shifted in his chair, crossing his legs at the knees, and placing his cuffed hands atop of them, "should I say, Miss Raydor?"

"Captain will do just fine," Provenza muttered on Sharon's behalf.

Stroh merely raised an eyebrow at Provenza, and nodded on a shrug of indifference.

"You wanted to talk to me," Sharon said, a questioning note to her words.

Stroh smiled. "And you want to talk to me."

"Want has very little to do with it, Mr. Stroh," Sharon replied blandly, shaking her head.

Stroh shifted again, this time uncrossing his legs and placing his hands on top of the table. "How is Rusty?" he asked, feigning concern.

"How is Jimmy?" Sharon countered, giving Stroh a cool look over the top of her glasses.

"Ah," he let out, leaning back in his chair. "I have to say, I was hoping he and I would not end our partnership so soon."

"And when exactly did it end?" Sharon asked.

"About an hour ago," Stroh replied easily.

The electronics room exchanged surprised looks. "So that's one suspicion the Captain wasn't exactly right about," Buzz said. He looked behind at Morris, and added, "Stroh had no idea you caught Jimmy."

When Morris simply nodded, Amy said, "What's with the note then?"

If Sharon was as surprised as them, she didn't show it. Instead she seemed to have made sense of the note before any of them, for she conclusively said, "You never intended Jimmy to help you get to us."

Mason's eyebrows shot up, and he asked nobody in particular, "Remind me again why she retired?" Most of them chuckled, but their attention remained on the ongoing interrogation.

"Get to you?" Stroh replied in mock offense. "That seems awfully harsh, doesn't it?" Not waiting for an answer, he continued, "Let's put it this way. It was never my intention to introduce Jimmy to either you or Rusty Beck."

Provenza had caught up with Sharon's train of thought as well. "You ditched him tonight on purpose."

Stroh sighed. "What can I say, I'm selfish like that."

"Why come up with a meeting place at all then?" Provenza inquired. "And that one in particular? You could have just left him in New York."

Stroh grimaced. "Paranoia?" he offered sarcastically.

Provenza scoffed. "Sounds more like a decoy to me."

Sharon narrowed her eyes at Stroh, ignoring Provenza. "So, _paranoia_ ," the word left her on a pointedly incredulous note, "stopped you from attacking me, but it didn't stop you from going after Rusty?"

Stroh suddenly chuckled. "I take it Jimmy told you how your Lieutenant boyfriend," the words were spoken mockingly, "scared me off the last time I was here." He looked pointedly around the room. "Where is he by the way? Shouldn't he be here intimidating me further?"

"Son of a bitch," Andy muttered under his breath, earning himself a look of warning from Howard. Catching it, he rolled his eyes, because it wasn't those final jabs that agitated him, and added, "He only told Jimmy that story to try to tip him off in case we were on either one of their trails."

Julio nodded, and sounding very impressed, said, "She was definitely right about _that_ , Buzz."

Buzz merely nodded in awe, his eyes still glued to the scene unfolding in front of them. Sharon was about to confirm how right she had been herself.

Ignoring Stroh's questioning digs, she said, "So you were following Rusty around these past few days, and when you didn't see any protection on him," she lifted a single eyebrow at Stroh, "you assumed we had no idea you were back?"

For the first time since entering the room, Stroh's unconcerned facade faltered, and briefly he glared at Sharon, anger at either her or himself clearly simmering under the surface. "I underestimated you," Stroh admitted. "After that last time with our good friend Wade," he smirked momentarily, "I was sure you would tuck Rusty away in a safe house the second you thought I might be looking for him." He lifted his cuffed hands, and frowned as he noisily flopped them back down on the table. "Obviously," his tone turned bitter, "my conclusion had been wrong."

Provenza and Sharon exchanged a look. Their million dollar question from the day before had effectively been answered by this, and what was more, Sharon's guess about it and the plan formed based on it had been correct as well.

"It's like they were playing a game of chess," Rusty said, drawing attention to the corner of the room he was standing in, and from which he was quietly following the interrogation.

Andy smiled proudly. "Only your mom came up with the better moves."

Rusty smiled, too. "Checkmate," he mumbled just as proudly.

"How did you turn Jimmy against me?" Stroh's question returned their attention to the monitors. He sounded genuinely curious.

Provenza smirked. "You hurt his feelings," he answered sarcastically.

Stroh's brow furrowed in confusion. He looked at Sharon in askance, who decided to explain. "He had been under the impression that you would conduct _all_ of your," she looked at Provenza, and interrupted herself to ask, seemingly having trouble with her memory, "what was it he called it?"

Provenza kept looking at Stroh, but replied, "Business ventures."

Sharon nodded, and looked back at Stroh. "He had been under the impression that the two of you would conduct _all_ of your," she put up air quotation marks, " _business ventures_ together."

Stroh let out something in between a grunt and a groan, the sound definitely one of late realization. "Is that what tipped _you_ off on me?" he asked.

"And your fingerprints at Jimmy's apartment," Provenza said in confirmation.

Sharon had to suppress a smile, when Stroh's expression took on one of mild shock. Clearly that fingerprint had been left there by accident. "Why did you kill those three people?" she asked. That truly was the only thing she could not wrap her head around.

"Who said I did?" Stroh countered.

Provenza pressed on. "Did the girlfriend break your heart? Did those teachers flunk you in class? Is that it?" Stroh merely glared back at him, so, taking that as confirmation, Provenza added in disgust, "We should have just let Sanchez shoot you."

Back in the electronics room, Julio snickered.

Stroh tilted his head to the side, and smiled smugly. "Would the former head of FID," he eyed Sharon, "have approved of that?"

"No, she wouldn't have," she said calmly, her look holding nothing but contempt for the man in front of her. "However, she wouldn't have exactly minded it either."

Stroh shot her a somewhat impressed look, and the same type of looks were exchanged in the electronics room. Then his demeanor suddenly changed and he seemed smug again. "You know," his eyes flickered briefly to Provenza at his next word, "Captain, I have to say you disappoint me."

"Is that so?" she asked, but she did not sound as intrigued as her words might suggest.

He smiled lazily, regarding her for a moment. "After everything we have been through, if I ever thought about getting caught again, I always imagined it to be by you. Instead," he looked at Provenza, who hadn't been the one to capture him either, "you sent one of your avid followers after me."

For the first time since entering the room, Sharon allowed herself to smile. It was a derisive smile that bordered on self-satisfaction. Abruptly she stood, startling Provenza in the process. "Oh," her tone dipped low, "but it _was_ me," she said, before making her point by taking to the door and leaving a dumbfounded Stroh and a smirking Provenza behind in the interrogation room.

"Now, that's what I call a checkmate, Rusty," Julio said, throwing him an admiring look.

Rusty chuckled.

"That's it?" Oderno asked, obviously not as impressed by the turn of events as his colleagues. "She didn't ask about his motives, why he came back, those missing women, or any of that."

Andy made his way through the crowded room toward the door. He mumbled, "We already know his motive. He's a revenge seeking psychopath." With that he stepped out, not waiting for a response, and went in search of Sharon.

He wasn't surprised to find her leaning against the wall next to the door of the interrogation room. She looked his way when she heard his footsteps.

"I think Provenza can question him on the missing women," she told him.

"Probably Morris, too," Andy said in agreement. That part of the investigation was more within the FBI's purview anyway. Reaching her, he folded his hands behind his back and leaned against the wall next to her before asking, "You alright?"

She took a long, deep breath, and regarded him for a few moments. Finally, a brilliant, relieved smile erupted on her face. "This is the first real breath I've taken, not in weeks or months," she shook her head incredulously at him, "but in _years_ , Andy."

Andy grinned at her. The tension in her body did seem to leave it almost visibly. He thought her features seemed more relaxed now than they had been in weeks, and her shoulders seemed to have sunk in relief ever so slightly as well. Suddenly, he realized he felt much the same way. Rios would still have to settle the paperwork in court. While all of them would very much like to see Stroh on death row, it wasn't really decided yet whether they would walk him down that particular road, or simply offer him a deal for life in a maximum security prison. However, it really was finally over. They were done worrying about the name Phillip Stroh for the first time since his escape. He bumped his shoulder lightly against Sharon's. "Me, too," he told her sincerely, before pressing a brief kiss to her temple.

She smiled and pushed off the wall. Andy smirked when she almost instinctively reached a hand out, intent on grabbing ahold of his tie, only to be reminded that he still wasn't wearing one. Her smile momentarily faltered, too, and disappointedly she ended up running her fingers down the buttons of his shirt. However, when she caught Andy's look, her smile widened again and she shrugged guiltily, before reluctantly settling on the lapel of his jacket. She gave it a gentle tug and said, "Come on, let's finish up here."

Andy smugly added, "And not let me wear a bow tie ever again."

When she laughed, and just tugged harder at his jacket, he grinned and happily followed.

* * *

They ended up taking the death penalty off the table and immediately locking Stroh up for life. Rios would have gladly put him on death row, but as appealing as that option was, Rusty and Sharon wanted to end the Stroh chapter of their life as fast as possible. It was time to finally move on, and a lengthy trial would postpone that further. For the first time in their dealings with Rios, she agreed to their wishes without arguing.

By Monday, life had for the most part returned to normal. Sharon still needed to meet with the commissioner to properly explain just what exactly had happened on Saturday, and she did so on Monday morning. Apparently, he was scheduled to leave LA around noon, and was more than happy to squeeze her into his busy day. He had been fairly understanding, and impressed by what Sharon had to say, for he offered her the rest of the day and week off to 'recover' from the mental toll the entire situation must have taken on her. Being more than ready for a vacation, Sharon gladly accepted.

After the meeting, she was sitting in her car, in the middle of debating whether to stop by the PAB on her way home, maybe pick up some lunch for the team, too, when Andy called her.

When she answered, she wasn't met by his usual greeting. Instead, he said, "We've got ourselves a new Assistant Chief."

"What?" she let out in surprise. "Who?" she added once she properly processed his words.

"Mason," Andy replied. In a slightly hushed voice, he added, "Winnie is not happy, but," his voice returned to normal, "Howard's over the moon about returning to SOB."

"Oh, I can imagine," Sharon said on a laugh. "So," she sobered, running a finger along her steering wheel, "is the division safe?"

"No idea," Andy told her. "Provenza's in a meeting with him right now. But so far he's survived 15 minutes without getting kicked out, so I'm taking it as a good sign."

Sharon laughed heartily. "I'm glad."

"Yeah," Andy said. "How'd it go with your boss?" he asked.

"Surprisingly well," Sharon replied, a touch of wonder to her words. "I have the week off to recuperate after the traumatizing events."

"Huh," Andy let out, impressed. "Shame _my_ boss doesn't see it that way," he grumbled.

Sharon chuckled. "Would your boss perhaps appreciate some lunch?"

"You trying to bribe him?" Andy asked, his voice shaking with quiet laughter.

"Do you think I have a chance?" Sharon countered, grinning.

"Provenza and free food?" Andy asked, his tone of voice silently adding, 'What do you think?'

They both knew lunch wouldn't help much with Andy's predicament, but she laughed anyway, and already getting ready to start the car, said, "Well, expect me there in an hour then."

"You're the best," Andy said. "See you then."

"See you," she replied, then ended the call.

Her arrival at the PAB coincided with the end of Provenza's and Mason's meeting. She ran into them just as they came out of the direction of Mason's new office, but before she could greet either one of them, quite enthusiastically, Mason said, "Oh, hello!"

Brushing his enthusiasm up to being happy about the promotion, Sharon smiled and said, "Hello, I hear congratulations are in order."

He smiled back. "Thank you."

"I would offer you a congratulatory handshake, but," Sharon looked down to her hands armed with take out food, and swayed them lightly along the sides of her legs, "I'm on food delivery duty."

"Let me give you a hand with that," Provenza offered eagerly, reaching for both bags. Before she could argue, he glanced at Mason, and added, "You two should probably talk anyway."

That had Sharon relinquish her hold on the bags, and she shot Mason a surprised look. "You want to talk to me?"

Mason nodded and looked at Provenza in slight admonishment. "I was actually going to call you, but," he turned to look at her now, "yes, I do." He bowed his head a little, and added, "If you have a moment, of course."

Provenza, again eagerly, said, "We'll save some for you." He lifted the bags in clarification.

She briefly narrowed her eyes at him. Clearly, whatever Mason wanted, Provenza did not seem to mind, quite the opposite, apparently. "Sure," she addressed the new Assistant Chief, "I have a moment."

"Great," Mason said on a smile. He stepped to the side, and highlighted the way toward his office with a wave of his hand. "You remember the way."

She threw Provenza another look, but when he just shrugged, she nodded. "Indeed I do," she said, and started walking.

 **TBC**

* * *

I am not a fan of the overly dramatic or violent, so I really hope that those of you who perhaps expected something more gripping or spectacular to happen weren't too disappointed by my fairly undramatic resolution.

I look forward to hearing your verdict!


	14. Chapter 14

**TAKE THE PLUNGE – CHAPTER 14**

Sharon wasn't a heavy sleeper, but she hadn't heard him when he entered the condo. She hadn't heard the door being unlocked, opened, closed, or locked again. She hadn't even felt the couch dip under his weight when he sat down. Only when she felt her glasses being removed did she finally wake up. She must have dozed off with them still perched on her nose, half-way through the movie she had put on after Rusty left to see Gus.

Not quite ready to completely chase the sleep away, her eyes remained closed and she simply hummed. When she heard her glasses make contact with the coffee table, she finally opened them, only to find him grinning at her.

"Hi," Andy mumbled.

"Hi," she mumbled back. "What time is it?" she asked, starting to pull herself up to sit. The room was dark, only one of the lamps next to the couch and the TV illuminating it.

Andy stood, giving her some space to maneuver, then joined her on the couch again. "A little after 9," he told her. "You were out cold," he added.

She looked at him and found him smiling at her again. "I was, wasn't I?" she said, surprised.

His smile only widened, and he draped his arm over her shoulder, tucking her into his side. "You have no clue how happy I am to see you sleep again," he told her, giving her shoulder a light squeeze and kissing the top of her head.

"I think I have a pretty good idea," she drawled, looking up at him, an amused smile tugging at her lips.

He simply chuckled in response, because it was true.

After finishing up with Stroh on Saturday, Andy had driven her and Rusty home, and stayed the night. It was the first full night's sleep she had had in nearly two months, and he had spent most of it watching her sleep. In fact, on Sunday morning, she had woken up to him staring at her, a much too cheerful expression on his face considering he hadn't slept a wink.

She untangled herself from his arm and shifted on the couch to tuck a leg underneath her. Once properly facing him, she rested her hands on top of her thigh, and said, "I ate lunch with your boss."

Andy flopped his head down on the backrest of the couch. "Yeah," he let out on a sigh, "we caught a case just as he waltzed into the murder room with the food you bought us." He turned his head to look at her again. "Provenza said Mason wanted a word with you?"

"He did," she said slowly, propping up an elbow on the back of the couch and leaning her head against her fingertips. Andy merely looked at her quizzically, so she added, "He offered me a job."

Andy's eyebrows shot up. "With the LAPD?" When Sharon nodded affirmatively, his eyebrows lowered and knit together into a puzzled frown. "But you're past the age limit for reinstatement."

"Who was it that said," her tone took on an airy quality and her lips curled into an almost devious smile, "that some rules were meant to be broken?"

Andy lifted his head and straightened, when he processed what that meant. "You're kidding?"

"I kid you not, Andy," she told him seriously.

" _Pardon the mess," Mason told her as she took the offered seat in front of his desk. "I've only just started moving in."_

 _Sharon smiled, looking around the office. Not counting the few boxes piled up neatly against the wall, and the couple containing folders that stood on his desk, she would hardly call it a mess. "Oh, it will only get messy once you really start the job," she said jokingly._

 _He chuckled, taking a seat as well. "You're probably right," he said, giving his new office a glance as well. "Which is why," he sobered considerably, and leaned forward in his chair, "I was hoping you might think about giving me a hand around here."_

 _Sharon's eyebrows shot up. Provenza's earlier behavior suddenly made sense. "You want me to return to work for the LAPD?" she asked, her tone lowering with the incredulity in it._

 _Mason shrugged. "Why do you find that so unbelievable?" He leaned back in his chair and folded his hands in his lap. "From what little I have seen firsthand, you are more than good at it."_

 _The compliment brought an involuntary, flattered smile to her lips, but she said, "I'm afraid you will find regulation against my reinstatement."_

 _Mason smiled smugly. "Is that the only argument you have against returning to the LAPD?"_

 _Sharon wasn't exactly sure if it was the confidence that seemed to be rolling off of him in waves, or the fact that he posed a valid question that made her shift uncomfortably in her chair, but she couldn't help it. More defensively than intended she said, "Of course not." Schooling her voice, she added, "But it is the most obvious obstacle, wouldn't you agree?"_

 _Cryptically, he said, "Not necessarily." Sharon's brow drew together in confusion, but before she could respond, Mason continued. "Listen," he paused long enough to give her a serious look, "I have seen how, even as a civilian, you've handled this case. As a matter of fact, I've gone back and taken a look at how you've handled yourself regarding anything related to Rusty Beck in the past. I like what I saw there."_

 _Sharon raised a hand, politely interrupting before he could go on. "Chief, with all due respect, the case," she paused, not liking that word at all in relation to her son, "of Rusty Beck is the one case you should not be basing your opinion of me on."_

" _Oh," his tone alone indicated he was about to disagree, "that is precisely why I think I should." He smiled when Sharon looked none too pleased by that. "However," he added pointedly, "that is not the only thing I am basing my opinion of you on." He gave her a knowing look. "I am also well aware as to how I got roped into the Phillip Stroh case, and how that helped spare the department from Winnie Davis."_

 _That made Sharon only more uncomfortable. "Chief, whatever_ little _," she gave him a pointed look over that word, "I had to do with that, I do not expect any favors in return. Certainly not ones that would put me back as head of Major Crimes."_

" _This isn't me returning the favor," Mason told her blandly, shaking his head at her. "This is me working on improving Major Crimes, and part of that process involves finding the best leader there is for that division." Kindly, he clarified, just in case he wasn't making himself clear enough, "That leader would be you, Sharon."_

 _Sharon shook her head. "Captain Provenza is more than capable-"_

 _Mason cut her off, speaking in a no-nonsense kind of tone. "Captain Provenza_ is _more than capable, but not as capable as you." He smirked as he added, "And in case you may have missed it a few minutes ago, he's more than on board with my proposal."_

 _Sharon pursed her lips and took a breath, a number of thoughts swirling around her head, but none really appropriate for saying out loud. Making the best of her silence, Mason proceeded to pitch his sale._

" _I understand that you're committed to the NFL," he told her, opening one of his desk drawers. Chuckling a little, he added, "You don't strike me as the type who does things half-heartedly, so I know you're sold on them, but," he produced a little, navy blue box out of his drawer and placed it in front of her on the desk, "I am still asking you to consider my offer."_

 _On instinct rather than curiosity, Sharon reached a hand out to inspect the box, but hesitated at the last second to ask, "You're offering me a promotion?" She suspected which one, but dared not voice it. She had been promised it once already, only for nothing to ever come of it._

" _I know better than to try snagging you from the NFL without sweetening the deal a little," Mason said matter-of-factly. "Besides, there would be more responsibility for you, should you return, and I'd like proper authority to go with it."_

"Commander Sharon Raydor," Andy said as if testing the words, when she was done recounting her meeting with Mason. "Huh," he added, clearly liking the sound of that as he slumped back into the couch.

Sharon chuckled at him, but soon turned pensive as her free hand started fiddling with the hem of her shirt. "I've let go of that dream a long while ago," she told him. "I was promised that promotion when I first took over your division, and yo-"

"Mason's not Taylor," Andy interrupted. On a shrug, he added, "He showed you the stars, didn't he?"

"He did," Sharon confirmed, mirroring his shrug.

Mason had actually shown her a lot more than that. He had talked her through his plans for the division, including her role and responsibilities in it, which would actually not just warrant, but even require her promotion. He had even gone to Pope with his idea, and he was willing to break a few rules to make it a reality if she said yes. Mason even laid out an increased budget plan that would allow Major Crimes to expand, or in the case of her return, keep Robbie Oderno on the team. His offer was definitely based on a lot more than just empty promises.

"So," Andy took hold of her fiddling hand, his thumb starting to rub gentle circles on it, "that only leaves one question." Squeezing her hand, he posed it. "What do you want to do?"

Sharon sighed and dropping her elbow, sank with her shoulder into the back of the couch. "I need to think about it."

The answer seemed to surprise Andy, for his eyebrows lifted, and he asked, "You're considering it?"

She took a few moments to answer. She was indeed considering it, and she had already given it plenty of consideration. Andy having caught that case had given her a few hours to mull it over on her own. The job at the NFL wasn't by any means an unsatisfactory one. Some of her efforts and changes there have already started to bear fruit, and she was confident that they had already improved the NFL's system. It was enjoyable work in a sense that differed from her work at the LAPD, and not just because of the obvious perk of being able to follow football up close. The pay was certainly better as well. She loved being able to see Emily more often, too. However, it was draining work. Not in the same way her work in Major Crimes had been, but it took a lot out of her to travel so often. Not so much physically, but rather emotionally. Despite her best efforts, she was spending less time with Rusty and Andy than she liked, and she had to admit it was taking a toll on her. In short, she missed them. Just a short decade ago, her children might have factored into this decision, but a romantic relationship most certainly would not have. Yet, she found herself looking at Andy, and factoring him in a great deal.

Growing impatient, and as if reading her mind, Andy said, "It's your decision, Sharon. Yours alone." He offered her a crooked smile. "But just in case you're adding me into the equation anyway, know that I'll support any decision you make."

Considering how supportive he had been of her decision to change careers the first time, she had expected him to say something like that. Still, it felt good to hear him say it. She turned her hand and laced their fingers together. "I know," she told him on a grateful smile.

"I just thought you liked it at the NFL," he said, a touch of wonder to his words. Flashing her a grin, he added, "I know I for one could get used to this Super Bowl thing."

On a laugh, she said, " I do like it. A lot. But," she grew more serious, and trailed off as she gave her condo an almost wistful look.

"But you also liked being a cop," Andy finished knowingly.

She let go of his hand and, on a sigh, shifted to slump further into the back of the couch. "Wrong tense," she said, slanting Andy an almost guilty look. "I still like it, and I think more than I like being the NFL's Chief of Security."

That was a conclusion she had reached once she analyzed the two jobs through purely professional eyes, the only personal factor being that of her own preference. The resulting list was topped off by the type of investigations she conducted in either area. She found that concluding LAPD's investigations gave her a more nobler sense of accomplishment than the NFL's did. Then there was the unavoidable game of politics. At the NFL, that particular game almost always, without fail, involved either the media, the commissioner, or both. At the LAPD it certainly involved the public, and she didn't have just the Assistant Chief or the Chief of Police to report to, but also the Mayor himself. However, there was one major difference; the end results of her dealings with either felt more encompassing and beneficial to more than just a set number of the League's employees or fans. There was one aspect of the NFL she liked more than the LAPD. She provided security and safety in an anticipatory fashion, rather than by acting retroactively. While any transgressions she prevented on a daily basis were far from those the LAPD dealt with, she still took great pride in having a hand in keeping them from happening. Another aspect she enjoyed in that regard was handling local law enforcement. While it was definitely a challenge appeasing everybody's wishes whenever they set up security at games, she relished in discovering the little differences between the various forces along the way. Truly though, it was her most recent NFL experience that underlined her conclusion. The dinner with the commissioner and his wife, and the accompanying charade put on for the public before they even sat down, clashed completely with one deeply ingrained trait of hers; honesty. She was far from considering her role at the NFL dishonest, and there was no denying that the LAPD occasionally resorted to deception as well. However, she found the ultimate end justified such actions in law enforcement much more than they could ever be justified in the NFL. Perhaps her thinking was a little contradictory considering her very personal relationship with one of their officers, but she appreciated that the LAPD never dragged her personal life into those deceptions.

"Hmm," Andy let out. "How long do you have to decide?"

"He didn't give me a deadline," Sharon answered, "but I told him I'd decide by the end of the week.

"You know," Andy turned so that he was looking at her properly, "it looks to me like you already know what you want to do."

"Maybe," she agreed, a far away look on her face, "but I'd like to give it some more thought anyway."

"Well," Andy suddenly stood, and offered her his hand, "how about you sleep on it now, and continue thinking it through tomorrow?" He wiggled his fingers, as if to add, 'Come on, get up.'

She clasped his hand in hers and following his pull, got to her feet. "That sounds like a very good idea," she said, giving him a quick kiss.

Andy grinned and put his hands on top of her shoulders to turn her in the direction of her bedroom. "Well, I have my moments," he quipped, giving her a gentle push to get her moving.

She laughed and let him fall into step with her. Wrapping her hands around his arm, she said, "That you do."

It was when they settled into bed and Sharon was ready to drift off to sleep, that Andy suddenly said, "Wait!"

The rather loud exclamation startled Sharon fully awake, and she lifted her head from his shoulder to try to look at him, not that she could see much in the dark, but he immediately went on. "What about Provenza?" He moved to turn the bedside lamp on, and pulled himself up against the headboard. "Since he's a Captain now, will he have to transfer if you come back?"

Sharon laughed and sat up as well. It had taken him nearly an hour to consider that. "Like I said before," she almost laughed again, when her reaction put an even more confused expression on his face, "I had lunch with him."

 _When she found the murder room empty after her meeting with Mason, Provenza stepped out of his office and invited her in. He even offered her lunch, despite the fact that he had already eaten, but she politely declined, and merely took a seat in front of his desk. The meeting had given her food for thought that decreased her earlier appetite considerably._

 _Provenza didn't beat about the bush. Instead, once seated as well, he immediately asked, "What do you think?"_

 _He sounded entirely too excited. So much actually, that at first, Sharon let out a soft laugh. "Is this office really that unappealing to you?" It was an honest question. Matter-of-factly, she added, "I certainly always enjoyed the view."_

 _He gave her a bland look and picked up the stack of folders on his desk."Yes, this office really is that unappealing to me," he confirmed flatly. Theatrically flopping the folders back down, he added, "Especially the view."_

 _It drew another light-hearted laugh from Sharon. "And here I thought you've made yourself at home," she said as she glanced around. All of his belongings from the murder room, sans his printer, had made their way into the office. It was scarcely decorated otherwise, less than it had been while she occupied it, but that did not surprise her._

" _Well, I'll have you know that I haven't," he muttered, pushing the folders to the side of his desk so forcefully that for a moment Sharon worried they would land on the floor. Thankfully, they came to a halt just short of toppling over the edge. "I have never been this out of the loop since," he paused and gave her a shocked look, "ever."_

" _Ah," Sharon let out, smiling still, but growing contemplative. "That would be a downside to being the boss," she told him sympathetically._

 _Provenza eyed her suspiciously, but relaxed a little in his chair. "When have you ever been out of the loop?"_

 _Sharon chuckled, not quite sure whether he genuinely believed she knew everything that went on in this office, or if he was exaggerating. On the off chance that he was serious, she decided there was no need to shatter that belief, and said, "Surely missing out on petty gossip can't be the only reason why you are so supportive of my possible return."_

 _He gave her one final suspicious look, but then sighed. "See this?" He opened his desk drawer and produced his white bucket hat. When she simply raised an eyebrow in answer, he dangled it on his index finger and said, "Before Saturday, it had been nearly three weeks since I last wore it."_

" _There are no restrictions to your going out into the field, Captain," she told him, surprised that he would be stuck in the office for quite that long._

 _He stuffed the hat back into its drawer. "No, there aren't," he agreed. "But it's hard to keep up with all this," he glared at the stack of folders, "if I'm out in the field as much as I used to be." He shrugged. "At least not if I want to be as thorough as you."_

 _She smiled, appreciating his underlying compliment, but she knew there was more to it than just that and said, "So, your eagerness would have nothing to do with the chain of command?"_

" _Oh, I have no trouble ordering them around," he said smugly as he looked at the glass wall behind her and into the empty murder room._

" _But?" Sharon prodded over a knowing tilt of her head._

 _He grumbled his answer, clearly not liking having to admit to this. "But I could do without having to report to the upper brass all the time."_

" _You would to me, however?" Sharon asked, more disbelief tainting her question than she intended. She already assumed the answer, really, but was not entirely certain about it. They had been in this situation once already, albeit the circumstances were now different, and unlike last time, he obviously had a say in the matter. Nevertheless, she still worried about unintentionally reverting to the strained status of their relationship from five years ago._

" _Sharon," he leaned forward in his chair and gave her a long, penetrating look, "surely by now you know better than to_ _question_ _that."_

 _His words, or rather the slight reprimanding note in them, suddenly made her more than certain of her answer. Touched by his loyalty, she was unable to keep her voice as steady as she would have liked, but said, "I do."_

" _Well, that settles it then," Provenza said gruffly, expertly preventing the mood from turning more emotional than he cared for. "Now, just tell me you're willing to give the NFL your notice, and I'll personally wheel your desk back in here." He smirked. "Or better yet, I'll have Flynn do it."_

" _I don't think it's quite that simple," Sharon said, ignoring his last remark and leaning forward to tap her fingers against the edge of his desk. "Before I can even consider this," Provenza perked up at those words, "I need to know if you are sure about being demoted to Lieutenant in order to remain in this division?" Mason had told her Provenza offered himself, but she would rather hear it straight from the source._

 _Provenza replied without hesitation. "Yes." More to himself than to her, he mumbled, "Whatever will get me out of this office."_

 _She pursed her lips and shook her head at him in amusement. "Chief Mason told me you were doing rather well," she informed him. "Despite," she said the word pointedly, "lacking a little in the patience department."_

 _Provenza shrugged. "I may be good at it," he paused to briefly switch gears, "and I'm not saying that I hate everything about this, there certainly are some nice perks," his look turned mischievous over that last part, "but that doesn't mean I like it."_

 _His words instantly kicked her wheels further into gear, so much actually that briefly she wondered if he had chosen them more carefully than he let on, but she simply said, "I will think about it then."_

" _That's all we ask," Provenza replied, swaying in his chair._

 _Getting ready to stand up, Sharon eyed Andy's desk and asked, "Does the team know?"_

" _No," when she finally stood, Provenza did, too, "but I can't imagine any of them being against it. Especially," he threw a somewhat irritated look at Andy's desk, "Flynn."_

 _Before she could catch it, a smile appeared on her lips, but she said, "You will have my decision by Friday then."_

"Lieutenant Provenza once again, huh?" Andy said, seeming to be rather taken with the idea. "Well," he shrugged at Sharon, "he never did like us calling him 'Captain'."

"It is a little strange, isn't it?" Sharon asked, unable to suppress her giggle.

"You know, it took him a month to start responding when someone called him 'Captain'," he said, before giving in to his own laugh.

"Oh," Sharon let out on another laugh, and slid down the bed to lie on her side again.

Getting her hint to finally call it a night, Andy turned the light out, and laid down as well. They were facing each other, but Sharon still scooted closer to him. When he tucked her head under his chin and draped an arm over her side, she hummed peacefully, already drifting off to sleep again. She really was playing catch up on all the sleep she had missed over the past several weeks.

However, Andy wasn't quite there yet, and he mumbled into her hair, "He's right you know."

Sleepily, she mumbled back, "About what?"

"None of the team would mind having you back," he answered. "Least of all me," he added more quietly.

They would discuss this more thoroughly tomorrow, and while he would give her his honest, objective opinion on the matter, this was probably as close as he would get to trying to outright influence her decision. As supportive of her as he was when it came to her NFL job, there was no denying that he missed not just working with her, but being able to see her whenever he felt like it, and not only when her travel-ridden schedule permitted.

Smiling into his chest, she reached for his arm and gave it an appreciative squeeze. "Good night, Andy."

* * *

Sleeping on it had only affirmed Sharon's initial thoughts, and she and Andy had indeed discussed it more thoroughly the next day, but she wasn't ready to settle on a decision quite so soon. In fact, on Wednesday evening, she found herself at Andy's place, still in the process of making up her mind.

" _So, I talked to the squad," Andy said conversationally, carrying a cup of tea for Sharon as he joined her on his living room couch. She accepted the offered cup wordlessly, but arched an eyebrow at him in question. "About you coming back," he added, placing his feet on top of his coffee table and stretching his arms over the back of the couch._

 _Mid-sip, Sharon merely said, "Hmm."_

 _Oblivious to the slight disdainful undertone of her hum, Andy took it as her wanting to hear more, so on a shrug he continued. "You know, just to make sure they're open to the idea." For some reason the words had Sharon offer him a fleeting, yet affectionate smile, and Andy, albeit somewhat puzzled, instinctively responded with a crooked smile of his own. "Honestly," he started chuckling, "I think they're just about ready to actually beg you to return."_

 _She chuckled at his silly exaggeration, but her smile quickly faded, giving way to a somewhat troubled look._

 _Frowning, Andy asked, "What?"_

 _She sighed and leaned forward to put her tea down on the table. Leaning back again, she turned to face him, and tilted her head to the side. She looked at him with what Andy could only interpret as an exasperated expression. When she spoke, however, her features softened, and her tone was just as gentle. "I could have asked them myself, you know."_

 _The crease on Andy's brow momentarily deepened, before he cast his eyes downward guiltily. "I didn't think you couldn't," he said defensively. Looking up, he added, "I just wanted to help," he shrugged, "you know, collect all available facts for you."_

 _Again, she gave him that affectionate smile of hers, and it only increased his confusion. "I'm not accusing you of trying to influence my decision."_

 _He pulled his arms back, and flopped his feet back on the floor as he turned to face her properly as well. "Then what are you doing?"_

 _She suddenly lightly smacked his shoulder. "Reminding you I don't need you for that."_

 _For a second, he looked at his shoulder, baffled, but then he smirked at her, and, as if anticipating what he was going to say, she eyed him suspiciously. "What do you need me for?"_

 _She failed at pursing her lips, and cracked a smile instead. "This isn't the time for you to be a smartass, you know," she said, not sounding as admonishing as she probably hoped._

 _Her choice of language only managed to make him grin at her even more. Rather seriously though, he said, "I'm not being overprotective here."_

" _I know," she said softly, her hand falling to his thigh to give it a small, reassuring squeeze. "You're just trying to help," she added, "but that's not the kind of help I need from you." She gave his thigh a pat and went on. "When it comes to work, having your support is more than enough."_

 _He smiled at that, and looking at her hand, placed his on top of it. "I guess you also don't need," he glanced at her over a smirk, "your boyfriend," he waited a beat for the expected roll of her eyes, "putting out feelers on your behalf there?"_

" _No," she shook her head, but smiled softly at him, "I really don't."_

 _He nodded, now completely understanding what her reminder was about. He hadn't inquired about her potential return out of professional concern, but rather out of a personal one, and their agreement had been to not allow those to mix if they can help it. In this instance, he could have, but didn't. He shrugged guiltily and said, "I guess I'm a little out of practice."_

 _Her brow drew together in confusion. "Out of practice?"_

 _He shrugged. "Balancing the personal and the professional."_

 _She hummed thoughtfully as she regarded him for a moment. "Maybe, but," her other hand came on top of his to tap it chidingly, "don't worry, I will give you a refresher course." When Andy realized she was only half-joking, he grimaced, and she promptly laughed at him. She leaned toward him. "Not right now though," she quipped and plopped a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth._

 _She was still smiling when she straightened, but Andy remained serious, another question popping into his head. "Is this," he waved a hand between them, "something that worries you in terms of returning to the team?"_

 _She shook her head slowly. "No," she said honestly, "we've already made it work once." More relaxed now than at the beginning of the conversation, she picked up her tea again, and leaned into the back of the couch. "If I come back, I know we will make it work again."_

 _He nodded, and leaned back as well. He draped his arm over the backrest of the couch behind her, and sighed inaudibly when she immediately curled into his side. "But," he hesitated, letting his fingers play with the tips of her hair, concerned he might sound a little presumptuous, "you're not making any decisions_ because _of me, right?"_

 _She turned her head a little to the side, allowing Andy's fingers to_ _sink deeper into her hair. Enjoying the feel of them for a moment, she took a short pause. Finally, in a quiet admission, she said, "I am trying very hard not to."_

She really was. She had talked to all her children over the week, and just like Andy, they had promised to support whatever decision she made, but asked she not base it on them. With that knowledge, her early analytical approach to the pros and cons of each job had been much easier to follow, so the next day, after spending the night at Andy's, she had finally made up her mind. She was going to return to the LAPD.

As promised, first thing on Friday morning, she informed Assistant Chief Mason of her decision. It would take another two weeks for her to be officially relinquished of her NFL duties, and to be allowed to start working in Major Crimes again, but he had been more than happy to give her her Commander's stars right away.

After her meeting, Sharon stopped by the murder room to share the news, where she was met by the grinning and knowing faces of her soon to be colleagues. They greeted her upon arrival, but otherwise kept quiet, giving her ample time to shoot Andy an indignant look.

He just shrugged. "What?" he said, knowing to go on the defensive when she looked at him that way, even if he didn't know what he had done wrong.

"Really?" she drawled sarcastically, waving a hand at the room, more than explaining the 'what' in question.

"In his defense, Ma'am," Julio spoke, smirking at Andy, "he didn't exactly _tell_ us."

Provenza stepped out of the office she would soon be calling hers again, and having caught Julio's words, chimed in on an eye roll, "He's been grinning like an idiot the entire morning."

As if on cue, Andy grinned again, making the entire room laugh.

"Congratulations, Captain," Amy said, smiling widely.

"Welcome back," Mike and Buzz added.

"Actually," Sharon said, briefly dropping her gaze to her hands, which were holding onto the little box Mason had given her, "uh," she looked up and drew her shoulders together, "it will be Commander from now on."

Surprise entered her team's features, but it was quickly replaced by wide smiles, and a round of heartfelt congratulations.

"When do you start, Cap-", Oderno paused and corrected himself over a smile, "Commander?"

"On Monday, two weeks from now," Sharon answered.

"And not a moment too soon," Provenza said in exaggerated relief. Hooking a thumb in the direction of his office, he added, "That paperwork is running out of space," he narrowed his at her, then tested her new rank, "Commander."

Laughing, Sharon glanced into the office, but found barely a handful of folders on his desk. Smiling warmly at him, she said, "Don't worry, there's plenty of space on my desk."

"Oh," Provenza let out, suddenly perking up as he pinned Andy with a mischievous look, "speaking of desks."

Before he could say more, Sharon put a hand on his arm. "I think the movers can handle that," she told him pointedly.

"Handle what?" Andy asked, looking between the two in confusion. But the second the question left him, it must have dawned on him because his expression turned into a scowl. "I'm not moving your stuff again!" he all but yelled at Provenza.

While Provenza shrugged as if to say, 'It was worth a shot,' Sharon laughed again. Indeed, Andy had been forced to help move Provenza's belongings when she retired. Apparently, and this Sharon wasn't supposed to know, it had been the least Andy could do after letting 'the girlfriend quit and dump all the work on' him.

Chuckling, Julio said, "Ma'am, your return really isn't a moment too soon." His sarcastic undertone had both Provenza and Andy shoot him an unimpressed look, but he only added, "We're _really_ ," his voice dipped lower, "glad you're coming back."

Smiling, Sharon nodded. "As am I, Julio." She looked at Andy and Provenza, who were busy glowering at Julio, and reiterated warmly, "As am I."

* * *

"Good morning, you two!"

It was Sharon's first day back at work, and she and Andy had just walked into the murder room, when, slightly startled, they turned to the source of the overly cheerful voice, not quite believing it belonged to Provenza.

Sharon smiled, but returned the greeting somewhat more sedately. "Morning, Lieutenant." Her eyes flickered to the rest of the squad, and she offered them a small nod, extending the greeting to them as well.

They had already taken their seats behind their desks, and seemed to have gotten over Provenza's unusually sunny disposition, but Andy barked a laugh at the sight of him. He was leaning back in his chair with his feet crossed at the ankles atop his desk. However, that wasn't what had him laugh.

Foregoing his manners when everybody greeted Sharon back, he asked him, "Are you seriously polishing your badge?"

Indeed Provenza had a small rag in one hand, rubbing it quite meticulously over the badge he held in his other. "My brand new, old Lieutenant's badge!" he confirmed proudly.

That had even Sharon chuckling, and shaking his head incredulously, Andy told her, "I've never seen a man this," he waved a hand at Provenza, "excited over a demotion."

Before Sharon could reply, Provenza dropped his feet to the ground and straightened in his chair, waving his badge at Andy, clearly about to make a very important point. "No, no, this isn't just excited. This is the happiest I've been since getting married!"

"Which time?" Andy asked on another laugh, casually making his way to his desk.

When Provenza shot Andy's back a bland look and raised his hand as if he was about to throw the rag at him, Sharon shot him a warning look, and he quickly lowered his hand, but not before gracing her with an irritated huff.

Julio chuckled at the sight. "Welcome back, Ma'am," he said, a rather genuine sounding undertone of relief to his words.

Rightfully feeling mocked, Provenza turned in his chair and pointed his badge at him. "Ah," he let out threateningly.

Andy did not feel particularly threatened, and suddenly said, "So, how long has it been?" He rubbed a finger of his chin, pretending to think about it as he lowered himself into his chair. "A year since you tied the knot?" He caught Julio's eye and smirked. "That's gotta be a personal record."

Knowing what bickering would ensue, therefore not waiting for Provenza's response, Sharon just smiled, and shook her head at them in amusement, before walking toward her new, old office. Brushing a hand gently against Andy's arm, she silently let him know she would like to not be disturbed, and finally stepped inside. Before closing the door, she smiled and ran a thumb across the name tag that carried her updated rank now.

She hadn't been there on Friday when Provenza was moved out of the office, and her things were moved back in. If she didn't know better, she'd have thought the office hadn't been disturbed at all for the duration of her NLF employment. That was Andy's doing, she knew. While he had categorically refused to help move Provenza's belongings out, he had been almost too eager to help move her things back inside. He hadn't just made sure her desk and chairs were exactly the same ones she had been using a few months ago, but he even returned the few decorations she had to their respective places. On top of her desk, the phone and lamp stood where they had always stood when she occupied the office previously. Even her new, updated desk nameplate that now said 'Commander Sharon Raydor' was placed where her old Captain's one used to be.

Still she gave her office an appraising look, as if she was indeed stepping into it as its owner for the first time. On her way to the light switch, she disturbed the closed blinds by running her fingers over them. Having flipped the switch, she turned to face her desk and sighed. She couldn't help but think back to the first time she sat at its head, and more importantly, she couldn't help but think of the young man who had been facing her on the other side of it. She smiled affectionately at the memory. Of the many things she had expected from this office back then, finding a son in it had most certainly not been one of them.

She slowly rounded her desk, tracing its edge with a fingertip as she did so. Taking her seat, she adjusted the chair's height, swaying gently. Had there been imprints of her in it, she was certain her form would have molded back into them perfectly. She looked in front of herself, and for a moment regretted not opening the blinds. She would have been able to see Provenza still grumbling at Andy, and she had no doubt that she would have seen the rest of the team, even Oderno, whom she was yet to get to know as an actual member of her squad, joining the playful bickering. She had come into the division hoping she would be able to build a good working repertoire with them despite their IA related grudges, but her hopes had been surpassed when, instead, she found a family in them.

As she turned to the window, to inspect her view, or rather remind herself of it, her eyes fell on the only set of blinds that were left open. There she found the back of the head of the one development that was even more unexpected than Rusty. She shook her head at herself, thinking about just how that relationship had started, but smiled knowing how far it had come. Completing her rotation, she looked out the window, but registered nothing she saw there, her thoughts still stuck on Andy.

Provenza wasn't the only one who had made changes in his personal life.

 _On Tuesday evening, Andy picked Sharon up from the airport. She had been in San Francisco for two days wrapping up a few things regarding the NFL there. She was in an exceptionally good mood since it also gave her a chance to meet up with Ricky, but Andy seemed to be practically floating on air. However, no amount of prodding and probing would get the reason why out of him._

 _It was when she realized he wasn't taking her to the condo as planned, but to his house instead, that she knew he was up to something. "Andy, aren't you supposed to be driving me to_ my _home?" Her tone suggested that it wasn't a simple yes or no question._

 _Grinning, he slanted her a quick look and quipped, "Not tonight, my dear." When she all but burned a hole into the side of his head as she glared at him, he turned to glance at her again, and added, "I have a surprise for you."_

" _What kind of surprise?" she asked suspiciously._

 _Andy chuckled, and without looking away from the road, reached out for her hand. "A good one, I promise," he said, gently squeezing her hand._

 _She sighed, but let the matter go. There was no way to wheedle information out of him if it pertained to his surprises. "Fine," she muttered, although there was a touch of amusement to her displeasure._

 _He flashed her another grin, and lifted her hand briefly to his lips. "Fine indeed," he agreed._

 _When he finally parked his car, he was on Sharon's passenger side before she had time to properly unbuckle her seatbelt, let alone collect her purse. Opening her door, he offered her a hand. "Come on." When it took her longer to step out of the vehicle than he seemed to like, he tugged on her hand impatiently, and all but dragged her around the car onto the patch of lawn next to his driveway. He even hastily used his foot to kick the door closed._

" _Andy, slow down," she let out, laughing now at his giddy behavior, but the request fell on deaf ears, and he kept on ushering her forward._

 _He finally stopped in front of his house's 'for sale' sign. There he turned her, and placed his hands on her shoulders, before saying, "Look."_

 _The sign was only barely illuminated by the street lamps, but her eyes grew wide when they made out what he was so excited about. "Sold," she all but whispered as she read the bold red letters stamped onto the sign._

 _Andy rounded her and tilted his head to look at her. "Uh," he rubbed the back of his neck, "I was expecting a little more enthusiasm," he mumbled over a nervous chuckle._

 _She met his gaze, but it took her a moment to process his words. Only when she noted his slightly concerned expression did she snap out of her surprised daze, and an incredulous smile graced her lips. "When?" she asked, this time the word leaving her just above a whisper, as she still tried to wrap her head around the reality of the sign in front of her._

" _Realtor sent me a text after lunch saying they closed the deal." Shrugging, he added, "We were in the middle of an interrogation, too," he laughed nervously, "so it was a good thing you weren't there, I'd have probably blurted it out right then and there in the electronics room."_

 _She laughed. Yes, he probably would have. "So, now…" she trailed off, her eyes flickering to the word 'sold' again._

" _Now," Andy said, leaning his head to the side to catch her eye again, "I was hoping you'd like to celebrate." There was an odd look on his face, as if he was wary of her response. "But tomorrow I have to start clearing the place out," he started speaking quickly, "and when I'm done," he offered her a timid smile, "I was hoping to finally officially move in with you." He shrugged, and finished with, "And then hopefully find an entirely new house for the three of us."_

 _Whatever it was that kept her excitement at bay, suddenly disappeared at his final words. Deciding not to analyze why she needed to hear him including her son into their plans, for she knew he had no qualms about that even before she agreed to move in with him, she turned fully towards him and reached a hand to his cheek, giving it an affectionate caress. "You," she propped herself up on her toes and pressed a brief, suddenly giddy kiss to his lips, "sold," she gave him another firmer kiss, "your house." She finished on a final more lingering kiss._

 _He smiled against her lips and sighed, almost palpably relieved that she was happy about this after all. "Finally," he mumbled, then locked his hands firmly behind her back and pulled her flush against him to give her a proper kiss._

 _When they pulled apart, in a chiding manner, Sharon said, "We're giving your neighbors quite a show." However, she made no attempt to move out of Andy's personal space or to remove the hand that had found its way into his hair._

" _They're only my neighbors for a few more days," he grumbled in a tone that said, 'I don't care.'_

 _She laughed and pulled further back, her hands settling on his waist. "You mentioned celebrating?"_

" _With your sense of occasion?" Andy asked on a scoff. "Of course I did."_

 _She pursed her lips at his mocking, but quickly gave in to her smile. "Then let's."_

 _He nodded and gave her one final peck. Leaving an arm wrapped around her waist, he directed them toward his front door. "I made us dinner," he informed her as they stepped inside._

" _Hmm," she said, watching him as he locked up and slipped off his jacket._

" _What?" he asked, giving her an intrigued look._

" _My sense of occasion," she said, pausing deliberately to bite her bottom lip, and when as expected his eyes dropped to her mouth, she went on, "is not in the mood for food."_

 _His eyes snapped back up to hers, and a crooked smile spread on his face. He took a purposeful step towards her and wrapped his arms around her. "Have I mentioned how much I love your sense of occasion?" he asked before kissing her._

 _She hummed, considering his question for a second. "Not lately, but maybe," she stepped out of his embrace, turning in the direction of his bedroom, and grabbed ahold of his tie, "you'd like to show me?"_

 _He gave her hand a look over an upturned eyebrow, then looked around them with an almost dazed smile. "What a way for this house to go," he said, shaking his head._

 _That had Sharon release his tie to tug on his suspenders instead, letting them snap back against his chest in light admonishment._ _"Oh, you're terrible," she said on a laugh._

" _Hey," he said defensively, rubbing his hand over the prickling area underneath his suspenders, "you're the one who blew off my homemade," he said the next word very pointedly, "_ celebratory _dinner for-"_

 _Sharon clasped his face and interrupted rather curtly, despite being obviously amused. "Shut up, Andy," she ordered, then attempted to kiss him._

" _Or what?" Andy challenged, evading her seeking lips, and grinning entirely too smugly at her._

 _She narrowed her eyes at him. Sweetly, she said, "Or, my dear, handsome Lieutenant," she tapped his cheek in a deliberately condescending manner, but his grin only turned more pleased, "you will find yourself repurchasing this house."_

 _Andy laughed, not feeling threatened in the least. "I don't think so," he told her confidently. "You may have needed a second to let it all sink in," Sharon's lips quirked upward at how quickly he had understood her earlier reaction, "but your roof is now my roof, too." Finally grabbing her hand and starting for his bedroom, he added, "No matter how terrible I am."_

 _Sharon chuckled, and let herself be pulled into his side. "No matter how terrible you are," she confirmed._

Over the next few days she had helped him clear out his house. The amount of things Sharon discovered to be hers surprised her a little, and Andy was being almost annoyingly smug about the fact that she hadn't even realized how many of her items she had left lying around the place. But yesterday, when they had moved the remainder of his belongings into storage, those things were why they both left the house with somewhat mixed feelings. While hopefully soon they would be making new memories in a house of their own, the box of her belongings that she had loaded into the car to be returned to her condo reminded her of all the memories they had already made in this one. At the same time, it made her even more certain of taking this step, and she was looking forward to seeing where it would take them next.

Right now though, she would like to have a light first day back at work. She and Andy were planning a little get-together with the team that evening, a proper celebration of both Andy's sale and her return to the squad. However, just as the thought crossed her mind, her work phone startled her out of her reverie. Turning her chair to answer it, she threw a glance towards Andy, and found him already talking on his own phone, which only confirmed her suspicions.

They had caught a case.

 **THE END**

* * *

I hope the ending didn't disappoint, and that you've enjoyed it even if you might have disagreed with parts of it. I took immense satisfaction in demoting Provenza to Lieutenant because addressing him as Captain just went against absolutely everything! You have no idea how many times I slipped and wrote 'Lieutenant Provenza' instead of 'Captain'! I just couldn't wait to call him 'Lieutenant' again.

Thank you all who stuck with me for the duration of this story. I loved writing it, but your reviews and PMs saying you liked reading it made the effort all the more worth it.

A special thanks goes to MajorCFan. Without her this universe would have never taken the shape it did. She is truly amazing.

Also, if you like either her or my writing, you might like hearing that the two of us are starting to work on a prompt that has been thrown our way by the wonderful maidenpride. We are looking forward to collaborating on this and hopefully entertaining you along the way as well.

Until then, ta-ta!


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